But the gold does suit her. She’s borrowed a few pieces from my collection, and I decide, in this moment, that I am never asking for them back. They are hers now, in thought and in deed. My skin does not do them the justice hers does with its sun-kissed warmth. I am too cold a beast to make gold glow the way she does.

I raise my hand to touch the thin chain of her necklace. She goes utterly still. Silent. Waiting. My fingers trace the fragile length of gold from the bend of her neck down and down and down, skirting over the crest of her collarbone. Her breath hitches, loud enough to reach my ears. I allow my fingers to descend that final inch, to rest on the topaz teardrop cradled in her décolleté.

“Keep it,” I say.

She has to swallow thickly before speaking. “The necklace?”

I nod, curling my fingers around the pendant, knowing exactly how the slide of my skin on hers must be affecting her. Because it’s affecting me the same way.

“You wear it better.”

I release the jewel, stepping away from her lest I do something rash, like push her up against the iron banister and devour every single inch of her the way I want to. That simply wouldn’t do. We have places to be. A masked ball to crash. Lives to ruin.

I offer her my arm, cutting my very best, most chivalrous bow.

“My lady.” I roll my eyes up, catching her gaze with my own. What I see in her face lights an ember low in my gut.

“Not a lady,” Ana says as she slips her hand under my arm. “But yours. Always.”

I lean in. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her so badly that if I do not, I fear I might burst. And no one wants that.

“Do you mean that?” I ask softly. I am afraid to hear her answer. I am afraid I may have pushed her away so far that I have lost her.

But she holds my gaze, lifting her chin. “I do.”

Equal parts fear and courage sing through my body, heady enough for me to forget why we are here, dressed in such finery. I forget what awaits us at the ball. That there is a very real chance this night will end in bloodshed. But if it does, I do not want to meet it with regret. Not after everything.

I lick my lips, extremely aware of the way Ana’s eyes follow the motion. My whole mouth feels suddenly very dry. “There is something I would like to ask you.”

“Go on.”

I have to swallow twice before I manage to choke out the words. “May I kiss you?”

Ana goes still. So still. She is stone. Ice. A statue carved in marble.