But most things did, and as she swung her leg over the sill, she wondered if Raven’s heart had hardened to her over the past three years. Or worse, if he’d forgotten her entirely. She tried to take calming breaths as she stepped into his bedroom, the darkness overwhelming. The moon didn’t touch this place. His curtains were too dark, his window too small, and for a moment, she thought he must be sleeping somewhere else, because the bed looked unlived in, just like it had the last time she’d snuck in here.

Two months after he’d gone away.

She approached the ebony bed frame with caution. It was almost six in the morning. He had to be under that black velvet comforter, curled into himself, like always. Lips parted slightly. Eyelashes fluttering. But Jack was nearing the edge of the bed now, and her eyes had started to adjust to the darkness. No one was sleeping there. Had everyone lied to her about Raven’s return? Was this whole thing a trap?

Just as she thought it, an arm slid around her waist, a voice whispering in her ear: “Still breaking and entering, I see.”

Jack bristled. “Well, if you’d bothered to send me an invitation, I wouldn’t have needed to break in. I could’ve used the front door.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.” His breath was warm on her cheek. He was standing so close, she could feel his heartbeat pressing against her back, soft and insistent, and she spun around, crushing him to her.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said, her arms wrapping around his neck. She’d sworn she would be calm the first time she saw him. But sadness and elation were ricocheting inside her, sending shock waves through her body. Three years. How had she survived? Wearing his clothes had not been enough. Sitting in his bedroom had only served to widen the chasm inside her, but now he was here.

The person she loved more than anyone in the world was standing in front of her, and he was just like she remembered. He was, and he wasn’t. He’d grown several inches over the past three years, and his hair was longer, stopping just above his ears. Those ears were pointed at the top, the tiniest bit. When Raven was a little boy, his mother had called him her elven prince, and she’d chased him around the kitchen with a wooden spoon, pretending it was a wand.

Queen Arianna and Prince Raven. Back then Jack had thought they would always be around. But Raven’s mother had died in the snow, three drops of blood trailing away from her. Raven had disappeared over a year later, and Jack had feared he’d never come home.