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She smiled and lifted her hand toward the feathers.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Her fingers moved along the lower edge of my wing, brushing the soft outer feathers before pressing gently against the firmer layers beneath. I felt each movement through the muscles in my back. When she reached the base, she paused to examine the place where the feathers gave way to skin.

"They're as warm as I remembered," she said, smiling. "I still can't believe I once thought they were part of a costume."

"You spent Saturday trying to work out where I'd hidden the machinery."

"I had some excellent theories."

"Your engineering team would've been disappointed."

Everly laughed, but her attention remained on the wings. She stroked one long feather between her fingers, watching it shift when I adjusted my shoulder.

I let her explore without interrupting.

She was thorough, as I'd expected. She wanted to know how much control I had over individual feathers, whether flying exhausted me, and how I managed to sleep without crushing anything. I answered while she examined the overlapping layers, occasionally moving a wing to demonstrate what she was asking about.

When she finally came around to face me, her expression had softened.

"They're magnificent, Cillian. I wish I could've seen you flying at the Grand."

"I doubt the hotel would've appreciated it. There were enough complaints about feathers getting in the way of the dancing."

She smiled, then rested both hands against my bare chest.

"I'm glad you showed me."

I gathered my wings closer to my back and slipped my arms around her waist.

"So am I."

She tipped her face toward mine, and I kissed her. Her fingers curled against my shoulders, drawing me down until I could feel her smile beneath my mouth.

I wanted to keep her there, with the harbor beyond the windows and her hands warm against my skin. I wanted another dinner, another evening, and the opportunity to learn every peculiar little thing about her that I'd never have discovered from Heaven.

I had once believed that reaching Everly was the most important thing I would ever do.

Standing with her in my loft, I was beginning to understand how little I'd known about what came afterward.

When she drew back, her hands remained at my waist.

"I've been thinking about something since last night," she said.

I waited, watching the way she glanced toward my wings before meeting my gaze again.

"I know we talked about getting older and all the things we can't predict. I've thought about it today, too. Probably more than I should have."

"Everly, you don't have to settle the next fifty years tonight. I certainly haven't worked out what we're doing next weekend."

She smiled faintly.

"No, I know. And I don't expect you to have answers you can't possibly give me. But I don't want you thinking that our conversation last night made me reconsider being with you."

Her fingers tightened gently against my side.