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“You can’t be here,” she whispers, her fingers twisting in my robes. “Your sithe cannot afford to lose you.”

“It can spare me for an hour.” I touch my forehead to hers. “I did not cross between realms to be sent back so easily.”

Her hand rises to trace the sharp angle of my cheekbone. “You look half-dead, Caelan.”

“As do you.” I catch her hand and kiss her gloved palm where the sigil pulses with my twin’s blood. “Yet here we stand, both of us refusing to surrender.”

A sound comes from the hall, and Amalia stiffens, her head snapping toward the chamber door. “Theron is returning.”

“Let him.” My arms tighten around her, suddenly reluctant to release her even for my brother. “I crossed realms to find you. I won’t let go now.”

Her fingers curl against my cheek. “He won’t be pleased you left the Silver Sithe unanchored.”

“Our sithe has survived worse than a few hours without a Royal.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, marveling at the simple joy of touching her again. “Some things matter more than duty.”

“Caelan,” she murmurs, drawing me down. “A prince should not say such foolish things⁠—”

I silence the reprimand with my lips, kissing her with a desperation born from fear and longing. Salt and moonwine linger between us, bitterness and sweetness tangled together with the fear and longing crashing through me. My fingers tangle deeper in her wild hair, anchoring her to me as though she might dissolve into shadows if I loosen my grip.

She responds with equal fervor, her body arching into mine as her hands slide beneath my silver robes and spread over bare skin. Her touch sears like flame meeting frost, and I gasp into her mouth, the sound swallowed by her hungry response.

Her tongue traces the seam of my lips before pushing inside, meeting mine in a dance older than our realms. The wet heat of her mouth contrasts with the cool obsidian air around us until warmth encloses us in a world of our own.

I breathe her in, drawing her essence into my lungs, letting it fill the spaces carved into me by worry and separation.

“Your pain found me even across the realms,” I whisper between desperate kisses. “I couldn’t stand it a second more.”

She answers by capturing my bottom lip between her teeth, the sharp nip sending lightning down my spine. Her fingers dig into the muscles of my back, mapping constellations of pressure that will bloom into bruises by morning, and I welcome the marks as physical proof of her claiming.

The sound that escapes me vibrates through our connected bodies as I guide her backward until the nearest wall stops her. Her heartbeat pounds beneath my palm as I cup her breast through the thin fabric of her tunic, the rhythm matching the frantic pulse of the sithean stone between us.

“Caelan,” she moans.

I claim her mouth again, deeper now, my tongue sliding alongside hers in a rhythm that mimics desires too urgent to speak aloud.

My brother’s presence twines through our connection, a Silver thread binding us three together. Through her kiss, echoes of Elionn reach me, his consciousness brushing mine for the first time since he vanished, and the sensation overwhelms me.

“You feel him, too,” she murmurs, her lips trailing fire down the column of my neck.

“Yes.” The word emerges rough and broken.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging my head back to bare more of my throat to her exploring mouth. “He’s alive, for now. Tomorrow, we will free him for good.”

My hands drop to her hips, lifting her along the wall until we align, no space remaining between our bodies. Her legs wrap around my waist, strong and sure, holding me close to the core of her heat.

“I could stay,” I breathe over her collarbone, the words escaping before I can trap them behind duty and obligation. “Help you and Theron save him.”

Her body goes still in my arms, though her pulse continues its frantic race beneath my lips. “No.”

My teeth graze the sensitive skin where her neck meets shoulder, and she shivers in response. “If we combined our power⁠—”

“You’d doom your realm, Caelan.” Her hands cup my cheek, forcing me to meet her terrifying gaze. “You are the anchor. Without you, it will collapse before we return.”

I rest my forehead on hers, breathing her air. Her words ring true, but I cannot accept them. “I cannot bear to have you vanish from our bond again and wonder if this time will be the last.”

“You won’t lose us.” Her thumbs stroke across my cheekbones, gentling now where moments before she clawed at my skin in passion. “But you must hold steady until we return.”

My mouth finds hers again, memorizing the softness of her lips, the scrape of her teeth, the velvet twining of her tongue. I try to pour everything I cannot say into the kiss, all the fear, hope, longing, and faith.