A light smile graced her lips. This was the right choice, the right time. The man she loved. “Yes.”

His eyes seemed to grow more intense as he reached past her to the left, and a moment later, the door opened to his own room. The corners of his lips turned upward in a mischievous smile. He bent his head toward hers. “I’m glad I don’t have to say good night,” he whispered before sweeping her up into his arms and walking inside.

29

Everything was warm and hazy as Damien awoke. He looked over at Selene next to him and studied her in the morning light. She was still asleep, her body rising and falling with each breath as she lay curled on her side. Her hair was scattered across the pillow and bed in long black strands. He reached over and felt a lock between his fingers, then spotted a bluish mark beneath her hair along her back.

He moved onto his side and gently moved her hair away. His eyebrows rose. Along her back, right near the shoulder blades, were bluish-grey wings spreading from her spine, like a bird’s.

Amazing.

His finger trailed one of the wings.

Selene gave a start and sat up. She glanced over her shoulder at him, then her face blossomed into the deepest red as she reached for the coverlet.

“Is this your mark?” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide as she stared back at him.

He pushed up on an elbow and brushed her back again with his fingertip. “It’s beautiful. Like two wings across your back.” His gaze moved from her back to her face, then he reached over and brushed her hair from her shoulder.

Her eyes trailed down his chest, stopping at his upper hip. “Is that yours?”

He glanced down at the familiar mark. “Yes. Three waves for House Maris.”

She hesitated, then reached over and lightly brushed his skin. His muscles tightened under her touch. “So different than mine,” she murmured. “When did your gift appear?”

Damien lay back down, his hands behind his head, remembering the day when his gift came. It had rained all day and night and into the next day. “When I passed sixteen harvests.”

“So young.”

He glanced at her. “Really? How old were you when your gift came?”

“Eighteen winters.”

“And how old are you now?”

“Almost nineteen winters. I was born a fortnight after the Turn of Winter.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “So you’ve only had your gift for a year?”

Selene smoothed out the blanket in front of her. “Yes.”

“And yet your dreamwalking ability appears powerful. It took me years to master raising the waters. Is that common for all dreamwalkers?”

She shook her head. “No. My mother said I was special since the day I was born. My mark is not small like my predecessors and has not faded. And it didn’t take me long to control my gift.”

“Interesting.” Damien grew quiet as he stared up at the canopy. Just how strong was Selene’s gift with a mark like that? Then he calculated their ages. “I’m twenty-four harvests. So we’re not far apart in age compared to most couples.”