Or’myr wrests the necklace off at the same time Tierney does, his besotted passion immediately dampening into stunned mortification.

“I’m sorry,” he says, barely able to hold her wide-eyed look of astonishment.

Those beautiful Asrai eyes. Eyes I could drown in. He pulls in a long, shuddering breath, desperate for a trace of composure as he lifts the necklace. “Looks like they...actually work.”

Tierney nods slowly, a flush suffusing her blue cheeks to a deep purple. Or’myr suppresses the urge to reach up and caress her gorgeous cheek. He glances away, longing twisting his heart as he takes in the jubilant purple crowd streaming by around them.

“How long have you felt this strongly about me, Or’myr?”

His embarrassment spikes to something approaching vertigo, but what does it matter now if she knows everything? He meets her gaze. “Since that first night you came to my Wyvernguard laboratory and dared me to hate you because you’re friends with Trystan Gardner.”

She holds his gaze for a protracted moment. Then, to his vast confusion, she steps forward and, quietly, almost ceremoniously, holds her hand out for his Xishlon’lure necklace. Thrown, he gives it to her and watches, with immense surprise, as she slips her Xishlon necklace back around her neck and moves to place the other necklace back around his, pausing, chain outstretched, waiting for his permission.

“Tierney...” Or’myr whispers, barely able to get the word out, but the heartfelt look she’s giving him stokes his courage anew. He angles his head slightly down, eyes locked on hers as she slides the Xishlon’lure back over his head.

There’s a sudden deepening of the world’s purple light as Or’myr’s tension loosens and his suppressed affection for Tierney suffuses his entire being once more. He pulls in an unsteady breath, all the purple of the world shimmering as Tierney draws closer.

“This is actually quite nice,” she says as she fingers his necklace’s chain, her eyes flicking up to meet his invitingly. Then she reaches up and runs her fingertip along the base of Or’myr’s neck.

He shivers.

“It is,” he agrees as they shyly move to embrace each other, Tierney’s hand tentatively coming to his shoulder, his palm sliding around her waist. His heartbeat deepens as he thrills to the feel of her body lightly pressed against his as the swirling, celebratory world around them fades to a dreamy, purple haze.

“All right, then, Or’myr,” Tierney says, tilting her head up. “I’m ready for your lightning.”

Or’myr’s heart practically trips over itself as he leans his tall frame down, then touches his lips to hers, holding his firelines in check as purple affinity heat sizzles through his body.