I don’t even bother to take the dress off as I flop down onto my bed. After that insightful talk with Raph’s father, I asked Devon to take me home early. He said he was fine with it, although I could sense his disappointment. I felt bad because it wasn’t fair for me to agree to go with him in the first place. I’ve spent the past ten years alone, I don’t need someone to hold my hand or to be by my side. I don’t need to settle for someone, even if they feel nice enough or safe. I’m better off alone.

So, I lie in my bed alone. I’m too lost in my thoughts to sense footsteps down the hall until I hear someone knocking at my door.

I don’t answer at first, and consider pretending I’m not here. But my lamp is on, so they’ll be able to see the light under the door. I have no idea who it could be, because the ball was still in full swing when I left and everyone seemed to be settling in for a long one. I checked up on Dani before I left, but she seemed to be having the time of her life with Lance and I was glad for her, for both of them. Baron, despite having two gorgeous girls on his arm didn’t seem to be having as much fun as I thought he would, though, and something about the way he was looking at Lance and Dani made me wonder.

“Come in,” I say finally, sitting up. I regret my words almost instantly when the door opens and Raph steps into my room.

“Shouldn’t you be at the ball with Layla, you know showing your subjects how amazing and perfect their future king and queen are?” I mean it to sound harsh, but I’m too tired for it to come out that way and honestly, he’s the last person I expect to be here right now. I’m aware that I sound bitter and pathetic. But I’m past caring.

Raph flinches at my words, but I get no comfort from that.

“I should be,” he says. “But I’m not.”

I stare at him, well aware of how alone we are right now. He’s waiting for me to ask him a question that I don’t know I even want the answer to anymore. But I ask it anyway.

“Why are you here?”

He lets out a long breath, then as he walks towards the bed. I don’t stop him.

“Because I want to be here.”

I have no idea what to say to that. But Raph is already talking.

“You met my father today,” he says.

I let out a sharp breath, not exactly a laugh.

“I did and what a pleasure it was,” I reply.

“You spoke to him for all of five minutes, so maybe now you understand at least a fraction of what it’s like to be me.”

Something in Raph’s face chips away at my defenses, although I don’t let my guard down completely.

“All my life, my father has told me that being born into privilege comes with responsibilities. So, my whole life has been mapped out for me—what schools I went to, what skills I needed to have, what sports to play, what friends to have, who I should be with. Even down to what I should say, how I should act, who I should be.”

“Are you expecting me to feel sorry for you? Because your life is all about wealth and privilege? Because you’re the heir to the throne of an entire planet? Is that it?” I ask.

“No, all I want is for you to understand that my life—it doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to my Dynasty, it belongs to the throne. People envy my life because they think the crown belongs to me, but they’re wrong—it’s me who belongs to the crown. I told you once that this world may seem beautiful, but it’s not. Beneath all the wealth and privilege, there are lies, deceit, shackles, traps.”

I’m silenced by the raw truth that I feel in those words, and I don’t want to feel anything other than hate for him. But I do.

“Do you know what it feels like to know that your life isn’t yours? Not to have a choice? In anything? You told me that night on the beach when I asked you to stay, that there are times when you’re standing in a room full of people and still feel alone, like if you screamed at the top of your lungs, no one would even hear you.

“I’ve felt like that for almost my entire life—most days I feel like that. Like I’m alive, but I’m not really living.”

I’m surprised that he remembers my words from that night and more so that he’s admitting he knows what that feels like.

But we both fall silent then and I’m not sure if there’s anything either of us can say that could matter.

“Look—why are you even telling me this?” I ask. I know it sounds harsh but I can’t let myself care. “You’ve just said yourself that what you want doesn’t matter. So you wanting to be here, wanting to tell me all of this—it doesn’t change anything. Because it can’t. Your father was pretty clear on what does matter—you, ascending to the throne and your impending betrothal. So, I think you should go.”

Raph turns to me then. I don’t expect any explanation other than what he told me before, which is that it’s complicated. But his words surprise me.

“My betrothal to Layla was decided the day I was born. I never had a choice in it. The St. Tristan Dynasty and the Delphine Dynasty have always been the closest, the union maintained through the generations by marriage.

“Everyone expects us to be together. But it’s more than that, the alliance between our Dynasties depends on it.”

I feel sick and I don’t think I can listen to anymore. I open my mouth to tell him to leave, but his next words silence me.

“But I don’t love Layla. I never did.

“I tried being with her, for the sake of duty, but she always knew I was never really there. I’ve never been anything other than honest. So, we have an understanding.”

Anger spikes inside me and at the same time, I feel sick to my stomach.

“And what kind of understanding is that? That you get to fuck other girls because you don’t love her? Is that what this was? You wanted to mess around with me so I could keep your bed warm at night, while you sit on your throne with Layla by your side during the day? Well, you didn’t get very far, because we’ve barely even kissed!”

He looks almost distraught then.

“No! God, Jaz, that’s not what it was about at all. It isn’t what this is about. You said so yourself—we barely even kissed.

“Because I knew from the minute I saw you, that it would never be about just that with you. Layla knew it—that’s why she hated you so much.

“I couldn’t even let myself kiss you, because I didn’t want to lead you on, only to tell you that nothing can ever come of it. I knew that I could never give you what you wanted, what you deserve. Because you deserve more—you deserve everything and I don’t have that to give. It’s not mine to give.”

I laugh harshly then.

“But that’s exactly what you did. We may not have slept together, but you did sleep in my bed every night. You made me almost trust you, when you know I find it hard to trust anyone; you made me almost like you, then you told me it was a mistake. That you don’t want me. Yeah, you did a great job. So save your explanations for someone who believes you—because you sure as hell didn’t care about leading me on.”

He loses it then.

“God, Jaz, you have no idea. If I didn’t care, I would have treated you like all those other girls—fucked you, then tossed you aside.”

The intensity in those blue eyes and the rawness of his words burn into me.

“But you’re not like those other girls. You deserve more than I would ever be able to give you, so I couldn’t even go there.

“Since that first minute I saw you on that beach, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. God, I wanted you so bad. I felt like I was going crazy. Baron sure as hell thought I’d lost my goddamn mind.”

I’m shocked into stillness, and my mind blanks. I don’t know what I’d been expecting but I sure as hell hadn’t expected this.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, Jaz, it’s almost unreal. And not just in the superficial way—everything about you is beautiful. Your sass, your strength, your kickass attitude. You’ve been through so much, but you’re so tough. You don’t let anyone give you shit. I mean you blew up my car for god’s sake. You’re so different—different from anyone I’ve ever met. In a world that’s all about appearances and status, you’re so real. Everything about you is real.

“At first I tried to drive you away. Because I had to but also because I couldn’t bear to be around you without …” He trails off then, seemingly unable to finish as he shakes his head. “I thought that if I got you to leave, it would fix everything. But then I couldn’t stand to see you go.”

His breathing is ragged, as if every word has been ripped out of somewhere deep inside him.

When I’m able to speak again, my voice is as unsteady as I feel.

“But you told me that you don’t want me. That you can’t want me. That this can never happen.”

“All my life I’ve been programmed to want only what I’ve been told to want. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“I’ve grown so used to it, that I didn’t even question it. None of it ever felt wrong … until now. Because for the first time in my life, I want something that I know I shouldn’t. And I know I’m wrong for …” He trails off then, shaking his head in a helpless gesture.

I shouldn’t want to hear the rest. But I can’t stop myself from asking him anyway.

“For what?” I say finally.

His hands reach out to cup my face then, his fingers achingly gentle against my cheekbones. I feel the touch in every fiber of my body. Then when his gaze locks with mine, I feel the entire universe falling away.

“For wanting what I want,” he replies finally, his voice barely a whisper in the space between us.

“I shouldn’t want you. I can’t want you. But I don’t think I care anymore, because I can’t stay away from you, Jaz.”

His words floor me and I feel like I can’t breathe as I look at that impossibly beautiful face.

“I want you. I want you so much.”

I’m stunned speechless as I stare back at him. He drops his hands from my face and takes my hands in his.

I think he’s going to kiss me and I don’t think I would stop him. But he sits next to me on the bed instead.

“Can I stay here with you? Tonight?” he asks.

I can hear my sharp intake of breath, because I’m not sure what he’s asking.

“Just sleeping,” he says quickly.

“I just want to sleep next to you tonight.”

No, should be my answer, but something else comes out of my mouth.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

He kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his tux jacket but is still fully clothed as he stretches out on the bed next to me. I hesitate at first, then reach over him to turn off the lamp, before lying back.

We lay in silence for what seems like an eternity.

I don’t know what possesses me to do what I do next, but I shift over to rest my cheek on his chest. I hear his breath hitch in response, but a moment later his arms are around me and I let myself feel his strength, let his warmth seep into my bones, let it chase the cold away.

He presses his lips against my hair, breathing me in and at his next words, I feel my own sharp intake of breath.

“God, you were so beautiful tonight. I think I’ll remember the way you looked tonight for the rest of my life.”

I try to shut the words out, but I feel them wrapping around my chest all the same.

I don’t know how long we lie together like that, only that sometime later, sleep finally comes and there’s a stillness in me when I let it claim me.

* * *

I wake up to the feeling of warmth and sunlight. Strong arms surround me, holding me, keeping me safe. It’s not a feeling that I’m used to—I’ve been alone for so long, never allowing myself to need anyone to give me that safety and comfort. As I let myself lie there in Raph’s arms, I let him do all of those things. I tell myself it’s because I’m barely awake, but part of me knows it’s because I’m tired of the cold, my body craves his warmth and in that moment, I let myself give in to that. I don’t allow myself to think about what’s happening or what will happen. I shut out the questions and rational thoughts, because it feels like none of those things belong in this moment.

I shift in his arms so that I’m facing him and when he opens those vivid blue eyes, I forget to breathe for a moment.

Neither of us says anything for a long while as we lie there in each other’s arms, gazes locked, bodies entwined, and it’s probably the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

The morning sun is streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows, touching everything with its warmth. But Raph glows with a light all of his own. Everything about him is golden—the perfect hue of his golden skin, his sexily dishevelled ash blond hair like a halo surrounding him and that smile, which in that moment, is devoid of its usual arrogance, is so beautiful, that it’s impossible to look at without losing all coherent thought.

I didn’t realize how much I’d been working to block out the effect that he has on me, until I let myself feel it all in that moment. His very presence makes every fiber in my being come alive and everywhere we touch, I feel the fire. Like that very first day on the beach, I get the feeling like I’ve been sleep walking until now and looking at him is like waking up.

I realize that I, on the other hand, must look like an utter mess. I’m still wearing the red dress from last night. But I’m also still sporting last night’s make-up and I can bet that the smoky eye look has probably now turned into more of a panda-eye look. But the way that Raph is looking at me, those heated blue eyes traveling every inch of my face, as if trying to memorize every detail, makes me forget about all of that just then.

I remember his words from last night—you’re so goddamn beautiful, Jaz, it’s almost unreal.

I’ve always thought that about him but I couldn’t even begin to imagine that he thought the same about me. Suddenly, the memory of everything that he said to me last night comes flooding back and I don’t think I can lie there with him a minute longer without feeling like I’m going to burst into flames or something equally embarrassing.

“I should probably jump in the shower and wash this gunk off my face,” I say finally, breaking the silence.

A mischievous grin plays on those sensuous lips and before he can make a lewd remark, I leap out of my bed and head straight for my en-suite, shutting the door firmly behind me. Yeah, I’m definitely in need of a cold shower.

* * *

When I emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered and feeling a little more rational, I find Raph stretched out on my bed, looking like he’s also just showered and changed last night’s tux for a grey t-shirt and faded jeans.

My gaze falls on my open sketchbook that Raph is leafing through. Usually I’d be uncomfortable with someone looking at my sketches—they’re personal, reflections of memories which are sacred to me. But Raph already saw my painting of Rockford Cape that day in the art studio and as he studies the sketches of the same scene, I don’t feel any discomfort.

“You really are one hell of an artist,” he says, as he looks up to find me watching him.

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling the usual embarrassment at the compliment.

“No—really. It sounds insane, but it’s like I can almost feel the wind and the sea breeze when I look at these sketches.”

“That does sound insane,” I scoff, although an art teacher in one of my previous high schools once told me something similar.

“I think it probably has to do with your powers—like you’ve always felt the connection, although you didn’t know what it was,” he says thoughtfully.

His insightfulness surprises me. I realize that he’s probably right. I get the sense that my life before this place was nothing but a shadow, a faded image of the true picture. That before this place, I was nothing but a ghost—wandering through life, but not really living. I tell myself that it’s the vivid colors and breathtaking landscapes of this world that makes me feel alive. But something inside me knows that it’s not just those things. That the face before me now, so beautiful that it’s almost unreal, has something to do with it, too. Raph’s very presence makes every fiber in my being come alive and the thought is so frightening, that I can’t allow myself to even think it.

I’ve been trying all morning not to think about what happened last night, but as Raph’s eyes lock onto mine just then, it’s impossible to keep the thoughts out of my mind. I don’t know what any of it means. I wanted the truth from Raph, I asked him for it, hated him for not being able to tell me. But now that he has, I have no idea what to do with it, and I get the sense that neither does he.

I fiddle with the hem of my sleeve, feeling suddenly awkward, because now that I’m thinking about Raph’s words from last night, I have no idea what to say. But I’m saved from having to say anything because Raph is already speaking.

“I want to see this place. Will you take me?” he asks.

At first I don’t know what he’s asking, but as my gaze falls back to the sketch of Rockford Cape, I get it, although I have no idea how he thinks I can take him there.

“Magnus told me that only Dynasty heads have keys to the portal. Why else do you think I’m still stuck here?” I reply.

That last part seems to cast a shadow over those luminous blue eyes for a moment, but it’s swept away with a rather smug looking smile as he digs something out of his jeans pocket.

“I swiped the St. Tristan key last night. Hopefully, I can get it back to the vault before anyone notices.”

My eyes widen as I gape at the golden key laying in Raph’s palm. The engraving of the sun on the bow is near identical to the row of suns tattooed on Raph’s side. A million conflicting thoughts and feelings race through me. This key is my way home, back to Earth. Back to my life. If someone had asked me a couple of months ago if I wanted my old life back, I’d have said yes in a heartbeat. Now … now, I don’t know anything anymore.

But that’s not what Raph is asking me. He’s asking me to take him to the one place that for so long has been my anchor. The place that is most sacred to me. I’d never felt the urge to share it with anyone else before, but just then, I can’t deny that something inside me does want him to see it. I’ve walked that familiar stretch of coastline each year alone for the past ten years, but now I want to walk along that shore with him by my side. The realization is insane, but undeniable all the same.

Some part of me recalls Magnus’s warning about Earth not being safe for me anymore. I consider telling Raph, but remember Magnus’ words about the fact that the other Dynasties didn’t even know about this supposed threat. Not that I really know anything about it either. In fact, some part of me still doesn’t even believe that it’s true. Still, I don’t think Magnus will be very happy about this little outing.

“Wait, isn’t it forbidden to go to Earth without special permission from the Dynasty heads?” I find myself asking.

Raph just waves a hand dismissively.

“What they don’t know …” He flashes me another wicked grin and the last of my resistance falls away. Damn those dimples.

“Okay,” I say finally.

Raph smiles back at me and it’s not that arrogant smile which is infuriatingly beautiful but a small, intimate smile, which feels like it’s meant for me and me alone and it makes his beauty all the more devastating.

He gets up then and holds the key out in front of him. At first nothing happens but I can sense Raph’s focus and then I can feel the air around me shifting like it did that day in the abandoned playground when Magnus opened the portal last.

The atmosphere splits open and I can’t believe my eyes. I’d seen this happen once before, but the sight is still such a shock to my system. What feels like a storm blows through my bedroom and I let Raph take my hand and lead me into the portal.

Starlight and rainbows surround us and I clutch onto Raph for dear life as we fall through the breath-taking spectrum of the vast universe.

The last time I did this, I was scared out of my mind, but Raph’s arms are tight around me, holding me to him, as if he might never let go and the fear that I’d once felt is replaced by his warmth, his light and this time, I let myself feel it as he leads me through the void between our two worlds.