The elevator doors slid shut and we began to glide upwards with Brass Pocket playing softly in the background. Tabitha and I stood across from each other in the small confined space, leaning against the mirrored walls, staring silently at one another.

We'd walked through the staff corridors from the Monarch Tower's nightclub and entered the glamorous hotel to find the closest elevator to take us to the private rooftop bar. All the while as I'd strolled by Tabitha's side, wonderment rushed through my blood, and a thousand different thoughts were tumbling through my mind, but one pounded loud and true.

I was in love with Tabitha Catt.

Ruthlessly. Irrevocably. Tragically in love with her.

Tabitha was loose-limbed with a sultry air about her. The elevator's overhead lighting flickered off the black sequined clutch she held at her middle, and one of her long legs was bent slightly, the toe of her high heels poised on the floor. The graceful column of her neck arched as she tipped her head back further to rest it against the mirrored wall, staring at me beneath lowered thick eyelashes.

A wayward hank of buttery hair had fallen across an eye and I wanted to walk over and push it aside, to sift my hands through all that gold, angle her head and silently show her what was in my heart with a kiss alone.

Fine lines feathered from the corner of her eyes as she narrowed them. "Are you okay?"

I blinked, my body stiffening. Awareness slowly filtered through that I must look spaced out, possibly stupid-goofy, with the sudden knowledge I'd given her my heart.

My fingers balled at my sides.

Don't tell her, you fool!

I couldn't. This was all happening so fast. Tabitha wouldn't feel the same way, not so soon after we'd finally gotten together. I'd scare her if I declared my feelings. She'd think I'd gone completely stalker-crazy and bolt the other way.

Hitching a shoulder casually, I shoved one of my hands into the pocket of my pants. "You look..."—I'm in love with you, you gorgeous woman—"...beautiful."

Tabitha was still shy over compliments. Her cheeks bloomed a deep rose and her gaze flitted to the floor between us. She fidgeted with her clutch as a pleased feeling she tried to hide washed over her features, and its loveliness had my heartbeat skipping.

The elevator came to a slow shuddering stop and the doors opened with a whoosh to a foyer with a black and white chequered floor, smooth, polished surfaces, and artwork with geometric touches.

Tabitha pushed off from the wall and took a leggy stride forward. She glanced up as she swung around, shooting me a wholly cocky look. "You're not so bad looking yourself." On her scarlet lips was the same cheeky grin she'd given me when she was on her knees in the VIP's bathroom before leaning forward, her hands braced against my pelvis to suck me off.

I swallowed back the moan. I was instantly hard all over again.

Tabitha exited the elevator first and I followed, quickening my steps to catch up and walk beside her as we crossed the short distance to the foyer's glass doors. When they slid open and crisp night air rushed inward, a faint smokey smell of burning wood curling around me, I stepped outside but Tabitha froze.

Instantly worried, I whirled around.

Tabitha had paled, the pulse point in her throat fluttering erratically. The color of her eyes contrasted starkly against her ashen complexion. I was beside her in a blink, my hand closing around her trembling one. Her voice quavered and was pitched high as she raised a shaky hand to point behind me. "I didn't realize that the edge would be right there." She couldn't tear her unblinking gaze from the dark landscape twinkling with late lights from the city's nocturnal residents.

I dragged my free hand through my hair roughly, mentally kicking myself. I'd forgotten that this foyer opened right up at the edge of the Monarch Tower. There was a waist-high concrete wall covered in ivy as if it was a hedge corralling us in, but we were only six yards away from a dizzying sheer drop.

Slowly, she tore her wide-eyed gaze from the ledge to meet mine, and the terror haunting the depth of her eyes had a cold sensation pooling in my gut.

Gods, what the hells had happened to her?

"Close your eyes," I urged, brushing my thumb in a reassuring stroke along the back of her trembling hand.

"Okay," she breathed, her voice wispy thin. She screwed her eyes shut and it rounded her freckled cheeks and creased stress lines around her mouth. I released her hand only so I could shift to her side and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close to guide her outside and across the patio.

This side of the Monarch Tower's rooftop was sectioned off for guests staying at its hotel, and the other side was for the daytime tourists who came here in great floods for the spectacular views of the silvery lake and the mountains beyond.

"Is anyone we know up here?" she whispered.

"Negative." My senses hadn't detected anyone we knew. A chilly wind slithered across my exposed skin, ruffling my hair and prickling my flesh. I walked her carefully across the path that cut through an urban jungle of potted Japanese maples, their leaves turning cherry red. Tall lanterns splayed light over boxwood and ivy spilling from urns. The starless sky was an ombre smear of washed-out gray darkening to charcoal. The city skyline and its sparkling lights made it seem as if the night sky was reversed with the milky way lying low on the horizon.

A breeze fluttered white linen curtains hanging from the bamboo cabanas. A low chatter hummed across the space from a few guests sitting at the raised bar on a teak platform, sipping drinks, and those lounging in outdoor armchairs and loveseats gathered around braziers. The small fires crackled and murmured, spilling a woodsy smoke in plumes as I headed with Tabitha toward a cabana well away from the edge of the highrise.

I guided Tabitha up onto the platform and around the glass-topped coffee table to ease her into a wicker couch with plush cushions. A few people like us were paired off romantically in their own private oasis, their soft laughter and whispering following me as I made my way around the four-poster cabana. The metal hooks clattered as I drew the linen curtains around to enclose us and give us further privacy from the other guests.

The sand-hued cane creaked beneath me when I sank down on the couch next to Tabitha who sat ramrod straight, her knuckles pale with how tightly she gripped the clutch on her lap. She opened her eyes slowly, puffing out a taut breath and glancing about warily. Long waves of hair swung forward as she canted her upper body to peer through the slivered gaps in the curtains to sneak a peek at the bar and other guests. "It's so pretty up here," she murmured. Reclining back into the couch, she shivered, her teeth chattering as she rubbed her bare arms briskly. I suspected it wasn't so much the cold, but fear and adrenaline jackhammering through her veins.

There was a mohair blanket for our use, and I leaned sideways to snag it from the nearby armchair. Flicking it open, I draped the dark brown blanket over Tabitha, fixing it around her bare shoulders. She smiled gratefully and tried to pull it over me too. "We can share."

"It's okay," I replied, stopping her with a hand over her slender fingers.

"You'll be cold."

"And you'll keep me warm," I grinned back.

The metal hooks suddenly clanked as the curtains were pushed aside by a polite-faced server who entered the cabana. I cocked my eyebrow, wondering what Tabitha would like to drink. "Want to share a bottle of cabernet sauvignon?" Both of us weren't drunk-drunk. I'd noticed Tabitha had been drinking water for a while now, and alcohol still hummed nicely in my veins, but we had enough time for a nightcap before the Stag Party departed the nightclub for home.

She scrunched her nose and distaste twisted her scarlet lips. "It's a bit bold and dry. I prefer something lighter."

That was another thing I loved—love, looooove—about Tabitha, she spoke her mind. She wasn't swayed by my particular tastes and preferences. I ordered us each a glass of wine. A cabernet sauvignon for me and a pinot noir for her. The curtains swung in the wake of the server's departure and Tabitha and I settled into our abode.

I snaked an arm over her shoulder, angling her gently so she leaned into my side. Tucking her feet up on the couch beneath the velvety blanket, she relaxed into my chest with a contented sigh. The teased wisps of her hair tickled my neck, and I soaked up her warmth, letting her nearness heat my blood.

Beneath the blanket I could hear her fiddling anxiously with her clutch, opening and shutting the metal clasps—click-clack, click-clack—while my fingertips drifted up and down her shivering arm. In the amber glow of the oil lamp perched on the coffee table, we sat in amiable silence until the fearful trembling faded from her body. I couldn't help from ducking low to brush my lips across the silky crown of her hair and draw in the scent of her shampoo—vanilla and mandarin. Love-ly. Just like her.

Tabitha stiffened, turning to look up at me with a frown, the movement forcing me back. "Did you...did you just smell my hair?"

I shook my head in denial, but said, "Yeah."

Her body shook against my body with a light laugh. She reached up to pat my cheek playfully. "You're crazy."

"And your hair smells so good," I smiled, shifting my mouth to coast my lips across the tips of her fingers. The desire darkening her eyes tightened my chest, pulling even tighter at her hitched breath and fluttering of eyelashes, the way her gaze strayed to my mouth.

The curtains rustled, and the intrusion of the server arriving with our wines broke the spell. She placed the tall stemmed glasses before us on the coffee table and left with her silver tray tucked under her arm.

Tabitha abruptly pushed off the cushioned backrest as if to go after her. "Shoot, I should have asked for water."

"I'll sort it," I reassured her, rising quickly before she could. The teak wood underfoot groaned as I stepped down from the cabana, striding quickly after the server to request a jug of water. When I returned, Tabitha's small smile was apologetic. "Thank you."

"No worries." Sitting back down beside her, I picked up my glass of wine and raised it to my mouth. Before I took a sip, the smell of dark cherries with undernotes of spicy cloves curled up my nostrils and I knew instantly the server had mixed up our drinks when she'd placed them in front of us.

Tabitha turned away and placed her clutch on the seat beside her, and while she was preoccupied I swiftly swapped our drinks around. A burst of intense heady flavor, black fruits, and a hint of licorice washed down my throat with a mouthful of deep red wine.

Tabitha rearranged herself to sit beside me better. She plucked her wine from the coffee table and sank back into the cushions, raising her glass to her lips about to take a sip.

I really wanted to let this moment be. This entire night had been fun and magical and sweetly dirty. I didn't want to shatter the ease between us, but I was supposed to be trying to pry out of her what she was up to with krekenns and hacking off Laurena's hair, and this was a way in. I tapped a hand restlessly on my thigh before beginning to broach the subject. "Why do you have such a deep fear of heights?"

Tabitha blinked at the unexpected question. A shadowy veil fell upon her features, masking herself partially from me. The glass of wine lowered as she sighed softly, turning to stare at the oil lamp. "I don't know."

Silence reigned for a long moment and I held back from saying anything, hoping she might open up to me.

She cradled the wine glass in both hands. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I-I...I don't normally tell people this. When I was younger something bad happened. Something terrible." Her tense body shifted uneasily beside me, and when she next spoke there was such heavy sorrow lacing her tone it sliced so deep it burned like a knife wound.

"I told you that my mother died, but I never said exactly how. She was killed by a beast in the Hemmlok Forest, and I think I saw it happen. I don't know for sure." Her haunting admission knotted my stomach. She rotated the glass of wine around between her fingers. The rich red liquid lapped its sides. "I don't remember any of that night. You see, I awoke at the Deniauds' the next morning, and everything I knew was gone. I lost every single memory, everything about myself. The only thing I remembered was my name."

Gods, she'd been seven years old when her entire life had changed in an instant. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to awake, lost and confused, and not know anything about who I was, nor recognize anything, not where I was and with whom.

Tabitha glanced at me timidly, apology dimming the green of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Varen, for not being honest. All those stories about my mother, I don't remember any of them," she confessed miserably, dropping her gaze back to her wine glass and placing it on the low table. "Everything I shared with you were tales told to me by my aunt."

I knew that. She'd shared childhood stories with me throughout our dates, but she skirted around details. They were always just broad brushstrokes of childhood adventures with her mother.

Tabitha rotated her wrist slowly to turn her palm upward. A wash of honeyed light bled across the edges of her fingers as she spread them wide and studied intently the hills and valleys and creases of her palm. "It's so strange," she said, her tone infused with distant memory. "Since we've met, I've had small moments, strange images that I'm sure are of me as a child, from the before of it all." She curled and uncurled her fingers slowly back and forth, frowning slightly. "I can't work them out. I have no idea what they are, what the connection is between them."

My own thoughts speared back to her as a child, turning her over on the gravel and staring down upon the gaunt angles of her face. I cleared my throat. "Are they memories with your mother?"

The blanket rippled down, exposing a shoulder when she jerked around to meet my gaze. Her pupils flared, and I suspected I was right. They were. Her teeth chewed nervously on her lower lip. A storm of conflict clouded her eyes as she contemplated what to say, but then it mysteriously seeped away as her head tilted and her gaze went faraway. A notch formed between her eyebrows as she stared at me, through me.

When her gaze refocused, her features softened and her expression shifted to something else, as if some understanding had come into sharp relief for her.

Her fingertip warmed my skin as she traced my eyebrow gently, sweeping along its underside. Her voice was soft and whispery as a summer breeze. "Sometimes I feel like we've met before." Then her cute nose wrinkled as she shook her head at herself, her hair rustling against the blanket tucked around her chest. "It's stupid I know."

I breathed deeply. Now was the time to be honest. "I, you...we have met before."

She pulled a face, chuckling. "I think I would have remembered you if we had."

Brushing a wave of hair over her shoulder, I glided my fingertips up and down the supple line of her neck. Soft. Exquisite. Mine. "We met the night you lost your mother." Her grin faltered and fell away into startlement "I was the one who first found you after you'd collapsed outside the Szarvases."

Her jaw went slack as she searched my face as if looking for the answers. Electricity sparked against my skin when she framed my cheek with a hand, her thumb brushing outward along its sharp plane. "You found me?"

I nodded, swallowing thickly.

I stared into those eyes I could drown in, the color shifting from blue to green to settle somewhere in between like the sea itself. The emotions pitched over one another like cresting ocean waves, their glistening depth reflecting her inner turmoil at learning we'd met on that fateful night. "How curious that we've met as children," she breathed.

Her mood changed once more, like blustery storm clouds creeping along the fringes of a mellow blue sky. Irritation crackled through the air, unwanted and unavoidable. She jerked her hand away and cool air rushed into the space she'd occupied and I mourned the loss.

An accusing glare was leveled at me. "You knew about me all this time and never said anything?"

What the fuck could I say to that?

The truth was, I hadn't, not until Sirro reminded me, because Tabitha had been nothing but a servant, no one of importance.

However, as I sat there like an idiot trying to work out how to explain myself, I realized she'd been with me since the moment I'd first gazed into those impressionable green eyes of hers. Their vibrancy, much like the sea, deep and endless, always comforted me when I was low or lost heart. Always with me when I needed something good to cling to.

I tossed up my hand helplessly as I shifted around, propping an elbow against the top of the couch to face her better. "It was your story to tell. Not mine."

"You should have said something earlier and not let me...ugh," she cringed, looking as if she was scrambling for the right words, "ramble on about things you knew weren't truthful." Embarrassment colored her cheeks. She snatched up her wine glass so quickly liquid splashed over its lip and stained her hand in beads of red. With a vexed hiss, she shook the droplets away.

Lifting my hand, I rubbed the back of my neck, my fingers feathering through the short cut of hair, unsure how she was going to react. I finished my glass of wine in long, deep mouthfuls and leaned sideways to leave it on the coffee table. I had to play this carefully and gently ease her into a serious conversation we needed to have. "So let's be truthful now."

A narrowed gaze snapped to mine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I struggled to think of the right way of saying it, and maybe it was the drink but typically I blurted it out. "Why did you cut off Laurena's hair?"

Fuck. Not what I was going for.

Tabitha was instantly defensive. "I told you, I didn't like her attitude."

Things were rolling on and this wasn't how I intended it to go, but I couldn't stop myself. "Tabitha, you're smart and clever, but your plan to get away with it was fucking shitty."

"It was spontaneous, more acting in the moment without really thinking about it," she whipped back with a tightness to her voice.

Tabitha was a thief just like me.

She'd stolen Laurena's hair while I'd stolen a moonlit ring, and then I'd lost it...

Lost it...

I didn't lose the ring on Jurgana's battlefield.

It poured from my mouth in astonishment. "You stole the moonlit ring from me."