Morel's lips press to mine and I gasp in shock. When my mouth opens, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and kisses me deeper. I kiss him back, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around this moment. I try to silence my racing thoughts and focus on the kiss, but it only makes me feel more awkward.

I pull away and give Morel a little smile when he looks at me with concern. The girl I was would have delighted in this moment. She dreamed of it. Now I have everything I ever wanted from Morel and it feels... wrong.

Someone clears their throat behind me and Morel removes his arms from my shoulders.

I turn and my stomach drops when I see Destan standing in the gallery. His face is unreadable as he watches us. I jump away from Morel and Destan extends a hand to me, palm open and waiting. My cheeks burn when I wonder what he must think of me. Does he think I'm still in love with Morel?

"Come dance with me?" he asks, his voice low and his eyes fixed on me.

I take his hand readily, thankful for the chance to escape. I have no idea what to say to Morel after he sprung that kiss on me. "Of course," I reply.

Destan escorts me back towards the ballroom and I glance back at Morel who wears disappointment on his features. His shoulders slump forward and he runs a tired hand over his face.

We turn a corner and rejoin the crush in the ballroom where Fae scurry about, finding partners for the next dance.

My stomach is in knots as I try to find the words to break the silence between Destan and I. We make our way to the center of the dance floor and he places a hand on my waist while he still holds my hand in his.

The orchestra mutters the first stirrings of the song and Destan's eyes rove over my hair, my face, and down to my dress. "You look beautiful," he says as a soft smile turns up the corners of his mouth. The gentleness in his voice, in his eyes, is not what I expected after what he just witnessed. It's a welcome sight from the man who spends so much of his time frowning at me. "I'm surprised you chose a dress so... daring."

The music begins and tugs at my free hand. As if it has a mind of its own, my arm raises with a ballerina's grace and I settle my hand on Destan's shoulder. A soulful melody fills the air and the feeling of yearning fills my chest as we begin to sway back and forth.

"It wasn't my choice of dress. Morel picked it out for me."

Destan's smile widens. "Ah... now I see."

My heart stumbles with an icy panic when I wonder what he must think of me for putting on this gown. "I didn't wear it for him," I cry defensively as the music guides us into more intricate steps. I don't even trip when Destan twirls me under his arm.

He pulls me in and his hand finds the bare skin of my back. With a gentle tug, he holds me pressed tight against his chest so there is no space left between us.

"That kiss—" I whisper. "It didn't mean anything."

"I'm not sure it didn't mean anything. I was there. I saw it," he says playfully as his hand slides down my spine.

"I swear—"

"There was definitely something to what I saw." His brows flick towards his hairline.

"You're not... jealous?" I ask, disappointment creeping sickly into my chest.

Without warning, the music crescendos and we take off into a whirlwind of dancers, spinning and twirling and weaving through the other couples. My feet know each step before I do and every time I think I may fall, Destan is there to catch me. He takes me by my hips and pulls me in, my back against his chest, my hips flush with his. As the music reaches a lull, we sway together. He brings his lips down to my ear. "Do you want me to be jealous?"

"No!" My hands raise up and caress the sides of his face. His stubble scratches teasingly at my fingers. "You have nothing to be jealous of. That kiss—" I lose my breath as Destan's strong hands caress the curve of my waist and dance across the sensitive skin of my ribcage. His gentle fingers trance the length of my raised arms, and when he reaches my hands, he pulls them down and spins me to face him.

"That kiss was awful," I say once I've caught my breath.

Destan chuckles. "It certainly looked that way from where I was standing." He raises a brow at me.

"You don't have to look so pleased," I say.

This only widens his grin. "I've certainly never seen someone go so still when being kissed. You've been kissed before haven't you."

"Yes, I've been kissed before," I grind out.

We weave in and out of our fellow dancers again. When he twirls me in close once more, Destan's mouth brushes against my neck. I would freeze if my body wasn't being controlled by the enchanted music. "Maybe you need more practice."

A shiver travels from my head to my toes. Destan must feel it pressed so close to me because he laughs, a caress of breath against my neck. The new feelings I uncovered this morning knot my insides with desire.

What is he doing? Does he want to risk deepening the mating bond?

We dance past the dais and I make eye contact with the Queen. She doesn't seem thrilled to see me dancing with Destan and the ice in her glare chases away the giddy feeling in my stomach.

As we move further away from her, Destan seems to sense my unease. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just thought... I don't know—"

"No," I reply quickly to stop his needless apology. "It's not that. It's the Queen. I don't trust her and I don't trust Prince Oberon."

Destan breathes a sigh of relief. "Neither do I."

"So you're just going to send Oberon to France and hope for the best?"

Destan stiffens. "No. Not at all. You'll be there to keep an eye on him. You and Lafayette. He doesn't trust him either."

"It doesn't have to be this way." My hands trace his shoulders then snake their way over his chest. My cheeks heat as my fingers find taut knots of muscle beneath the blue silk of his doublet.

Destan gasps shallowly. "The Queen has what she wants. She is not going to go back on her bargain."

His hand comes to rest on my cheek and the music slows to a stop. As if a puppeteer has cut my strings, my arms fall to my sides.

Destan snatches his hand away and glances furtively towards the Queen on her dais.

"Please! Let me help you! Let me find another way!" I whisper sharply. "I'll find something else the Queen wants—"

"No!" he snaps.

Several faces turn to look at us.

"Destan—"

"It's out of the question." He turns and stalks into the crowd.

My heart aches at the thought of leaving Destan here. I wrap an arm around my waist to settle the unease that sickens my middle. New dancers glide onto the dance floor and I scurry away before anyone else can ask me to dance.

For the rest of the evening, Morel avoids me, pretending he doesn't see me when we cross paths. Destan is too busy with an endless stream of dance partners to notice that I have nothing to do but eat until my stomach hurts while I watch him twirl one beautiful faerie after the next. I recognize the Queen's steward, but before I can greet her, she storms off when a servant alerts her to a problem in the kitchens.

With not a familiar face in sight, I feel so lonely I could cry. My throat grows thick with the memory of my friends. Of Lavernia with her too loud cackle and scandalous smirks. Of Lafayette and Hadrian arguing politics when they've had too much champagne. Of Marie watching serenely over the room with a smile in her eyes. How am I going to tell her I had to leave Destan behind for 25 years? She might not even live to see him return.

I down the last of the wine in my glass and leave the beautiful party behind. On my way to our chambers, I contemplate what I could offer the Queen in exchange for Destan, but I pause when I reach the door. As I fumble with the lock, a thought occurs to me: if I offer the Queen an exchange, something of personal sacrifice, I could deepen Destan's mating bond. This means I may have to rethink my strategy.

Footsteps shuffle behind me in the dark corridor and I jump with fright, dropping my key in the process. Destan peels away from the shadows and closes the distance between us. He grabs my hips and pushes my back up against the door. My mouth parts in shock as I tilt my head up to look at him. His eyes are dark and wild. My pulse thunders in my ears and my breaths come faster and faster as I recognize the desire on his face.

"Destan," I breathe. "What are you doing?"

He inclined his head forward and nuzzles his nose against a tender place just below my jaw. I grab fistfuls of his doublet to steady myself when my head starts to swim.

Destan takes a deep breath. "If you want to help me..." he whispers against my neck. "I have a favor to ask of you."

My legs tremble, but Destan holds me steady with strong hands. I swallow a flutter that rises from my stomach to my throat. "Anything."

He lifts his head to meet my gaze and his voice drops to a growl. "I want you to ruin me."

I draw in a sharp breath. "What?"

"I want you to kiss me." His eyes flick to my lips. "Kiss me. Ruin me."

"Are you mad?"

"Yes," he chuckles darkly and moves in closer.

"That will deepen the mating bond."

"Yes," he breathes.

"But you said you didn't want that."

"No. I said you wouldn't want that."

"Does that mean you want this? That you really want... me?"

"I want you." Destan's mouth forms that sinful smirk. "I have wanted you for a very long time. Is that what you want me to say or do you want me to beg? I'm not above begging."

"I don't want you to say anything"

Destan's smirk turns sheepish and he pulls away. "Je suis désolé. I thought... I thought I sensed something between us, but perhaps it was just me reading too much into my own desires. I didn't even let myself hope until I watched you kiss Morel. I thought for certain you were still in love with him until that kiss, but perhaps..."

"No. No. You're right," I admit as a violent blush heats my face. "You... When you walk into a room I forget how to breathe." I clutch him tighter so he won't pull away.

"Then kiss me, Florette." His fingers plunge into my hair while his arm wraps around my waist to pull me flush against him.

It takes all my willpower not to press my mouth to the perfect Cupid's bow of his lips. "No," I groan. If I fail to renegotiate the Queen's terms, I can't do that to Destan: strengthen the bond then leave him to suffer the separation for 100 years. "No. It will make our parting all the more painful for you."

"Yes," he replies. "But the bond isn't sealed yet. Just...think of this as goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Florette, you must not wait for me. I will not let you miss out on marriage, on children, waiting for me."

Anger flares to life in my chest. "Do you want me? All of me? Or is this just physical attraction to you?"

Destan pulls away, but he doesn't release me. "Florette, please. It's not as simple as that."

"I know it's not simple, but that's not what I'm asking. Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"Then stop trying to save me from yourself. Because I want you. All of you. The parts you like and the parts you don't. Because I — I'm not going to hurt you by giving you what you want."

I withdraw myself from his arms and the absence of his touch makes my heart ache. I back down the hallway away from our room.

Destan's brows furrow in concern. "Where are you going?"

"There's something I need to do." I hurry down the stairs before he can stop me.

If he's willing to deepen the mating bond with a kiss, then I can risk deepening it with a bargain.