I don’t get a tour of the castle that night. Instead, Rhyland shows me the queen’s chambers—apparently, he’s been here before—telling me he’ll give me a tour early tomorrow night when I wake up. Then he walks away without saying another word.

I don’t bother looking around the room before I climb into bed, and the moment my body hits the mattress, sleep pulls me under. Right before I succumb to exhaustion, I swear I feel the soft brush of lips against my forehead, but it easily could’ve been my imagination. Or a ghost.

* * *

It’s my fifteenth birthday, and I’m hiding out in my room from my family. Well, not so much my family, but from Nadine and her friends. She invited them to my party without permission, although I think my mom was relieved just to have some people show up. I think she may be starting to realize that her youngest daughter has no friends.

Music is filtering through the house from downstairs, the lyrics swirling and mixing with laughter. Everyone is so happy. Everyone but me.

I wish I could be happy, but the moment I step foot downstairs, either Nadine, Rhyland, or Kingsley will rip that happiness from me.

I flop back onto my bed, wishing I was someplace else. Wishing I was someone else. Wishing I didn’t think that way. Wishing I could be happy just being me.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” I call out, figuring it’s my mom.

When the door opens, though, my mom isn’t standing in the doorway. Rhyland is.

I sit up, my guard going up. “What do you want?” I loathe the nervous edge in my tone, but I can’t help it.

His lips pull into a lazy smile as he enters my room, his gaze skimming the posters on my wall. “I wanted to come say hi.”

“Hi,” I mumble, watching his every movement, waiting for him to strike.

His eyes settle on me, and that lazy grins shifts into a full-blown grin. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.” I brace myself for the punch line that hasn’t come.

Yet.

He takes a seat on my bed, sitting so close the sides of our legs touch. “You don’t seem that happy.”

“I’m happy enough,” I lie, inching away from him.

He eyeballs the distance between us and steals it right back. “You know, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“No, you can’t.” Can he? He does have a lot of witches cast spells and charms for him. Maybe he had them put a mind reading spell on him.

“Yes, I can,” he states matter-of-factly. “I always can.”

I force down a shaky breath trying to flee my throat. “How?”

He winks at me. “It’s a secret.”

My nerves get the best of me and I shudder.

A crease forms between his brows. “You’re afraid of me?”

“I’m not afraid.” Liar. “I’m just nervous about why you’re here in my room.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “To wish you a happy birthday.” He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, a contemplative look crossing his face. “And to give you your birthday present.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and retrieves a small black box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. “Happy birthday.”

I don’t take the present. “What’s in it?”

He restrains a smile. “Open it and find out.”

I don’t want to. For all I know, when I open the box, a cloud of magic will poof into my face and I’ll be cursed with bat-pox or something. But the longer I stare at the box, the more my curiosity gets the best of me.

I slowly untie the ribbon, knowing whatever happens next is my own damn fault. The moment I open the box, confusion sets in.

“What is this?” I ask, peering up at Rhyland. Is this some sort of joke?

Inside the box isn’t a curse, but the most beautiful choker I’ve ever seen.

He smiles amusedly. “What it looks like.” He picks up the choker and holds it up in front of me. The moonlight glistening through the window reflects against the crimson rose trimmed by swirls of black, thorny metal.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, realizing my stupid mistake a second later.

I just gave him the upper hand.

I hold my breath, waiting for him to laugh in my face and tell me the choker isn’t for me, but all he does is lower the choker with a sigh.

“I wish I could let you keep it,” he says quietly. “But if anyone saw you wearing it, I’d get in trouble. I can only give it to you for tonight.”

I try my best to mask my disappointment. “Why will you get into trouble?”

He shrugs, seeming sad, which is strange. Rhyland usually seems so … empty.

“Because I will.” His gaze elevates to mine. “But I might not get into trouble if I give it to you and you just don’t wear it.”

“Maybe you should just give it to someone who can wear it,” I suggest, unsure what’s going on.

“I don’t want to give it to someone else.” He raises his hand with the choker dangling from his fingers. “Maybe you can keep it somewhere until it’s safe for you to wear it.”

I still don’t know if this is a trick, but I really want the choker. Not just to have it, but I like the idea of getting a present from someone who isn’t my parents.

“I could keep it in my jewelry box.” I point at a silver box on my dresser. “It has a charm on it so only I can open it.”

He tracks my gaze, wavers, then nods. “Okay.”

Smiling, I reach for the choker, but he moves his hand right before my fingers brush the velvet strap.

I knew it. This was a trick. I’m so stupid.

“I want something in return,” he whispers.

I eye the door, wondering if I should just run before this blows up in my face.

He hooks a finger under my chin and forces me to look at him. “It’s not a bad thing. I hope not, anyway. What I want …” His gaze drops to my lips. “I want to kiss you.”

“What?” I whisper in disgusted shock.

He chuckles. “Well, I was hoping for a little less disgust, but I guess I sort of deserve it.” His eyes flick to my lips again. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” His gaze meets mine again, he pauses, and then suddenly he’s leaning in.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, his lips inch toward mine.

I tense, wanting to flee, wanting to do the smart thing and run away from whatever disaster is waiting for me when—and if—our lips touch. But I’ve never been kissed before, and I want to know what it feels like to connect with someone like that. To connect with someone at all.

So, I remain frozen as he moves in for the kiss. He takes his time, his gaze shifting back and forth between my lips and eyes. Back and forth, back and forth, until his lips finally brush mine.

He doesn’t deepen the kiss, remaining completely still. I almost pull back, but then his lips start moving carefully, gently, softly. I still don’t move. Barely breathe. Waiting for … Well, I’m not really sure. I’m so confused. Lost. Worried. Then his tongue parts my lips and slips inside my mouth, and all thoughts and worries leave my mind.

He tastes like warm magic, sparkling moonlight, and blood frosting. It’s a strange, wonderfully delicious combination that I want to taste more of. But as quickly as the kiss started, he’s pulling away.

His eyes are glazed over, and his chest rises and crashes with his ragged breathing. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. Without looking at me, he gets up and sets the choker down on my dresser. Then he walks toward the doorway.

“Sorry for what …?” I trail off as he slips out the door, taking the memory right along with him.

My eyes pop open as I drift away from the dream … the memory … Well, I’m not really sure what just happened. Whether I was dreaming or not. I mean, I was asleep, so a dream seems like the better answer, but the images … Rhyland’s lips against mine … Him giving me the choker … It felt so real. Realer than some of my real-life memories.

I stare up at the black glittery ceiling that belongs to my new bedroom—the queen’s chambers—with my fingers touching my lips as I replay the kiss repeatedly.

I’ve never kissed a guy before, so I don’t know what a kiss feels like. But that kiss in my dream … it was more wonderful than I ever could’ve imagined.

He tasted like warm magic, sparkling moonlight, and blood frosting. I wonder if that’s what he really tastes like. I wonder if his kisses taste like his blood.

I press my fingers to the brim of my nose. What is wrong with me? I’m seriously losing my damn mind if I’m dreaming about kissing Rhyland. I shouldn’t feel that way toward him, not when he’s treated me like shit for years.

Get a grip over yourself, Raven.

What happens if Rhyland finds out what you’re thinking about? What if his voice was in your head last night?

I lie in bed until I’ve cleared my mind of warm, sparkling, frosting tasting kisses. Although, if I’m truly being honest with myself, I can still taste him on my lips when I climb out of bed.

I do my best to ignore my own stupidity and throw open the curtains, letting the fading sunlight cascade into my room. Then I turn around, assessing the room that is now my chambers.

A black rose trimmed dresser and armoire matches the massive four-poster bed I slept in last night. The purple velvet blanket that covers the bed contrasts well with the charcoal black walls and glittery ceiling. Black and white tiles checkerboard the floor, and thorny, metal vines and glistening lavender diamonds form a chandelier that filters shimmering light across the fireplace and a few sets of chairs. To my right, a massive bookshelf stretches across the wall and merges with a doorway that opens into the biggest closet I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“This room is seriously badass,” I say to myself. Then I quickly realize the badass room holds none of my belongings.

Sighing, I dig my phone out of my pocket to text my mom.

Me: Have you by chance left the house yet?

Mom: Nope. Just getting ready to, though. Why? What do you need?

Me: Can you bring some of my stuff?

Mom: Was already planning on it.

Me: You’re the best mom ever.

Mom: I’m glad you think so.

I smile and head toward a closed door near the closet, wondering if it’s the bathroom. As I’m passing by the armoire, I notice a metal stand perched on top, made for hanging up pieces of jewelry. Like chokers.

I don’t know why I do it. Sheer curiosity, perhaps? Or sheer insanity. Whatever the reason, I send my mom another text.

Me: Can you bring my jewelry box from off the dresser?

Mom: Sure.

I’m not sure what I expect to find. I haven’t even looked in the jewelry box for ages since I’m not much of a jewelry girl. But a tiny part of me is curious if I’ll find that choker Rhyland gave me in my dreams. A crazy part of me, of course, but a part I’m going to tolerate the insanity for now. I can’t shake the feeling that the dream was so much more than just a dream. So much realer.

I just wish I knew why.