CHAPTER TWENTY

SUNSET FADED FROM THE SKY and brought the deep violet of night.

Paper lanterns hung around the pool in the Knights’ backyard, glowing softly. Platters of food were set up on a table near the cabana. And Beau Rivage’s fairy-tale finest were hanging out poolside. Viv had organized a surprise birthday party for Mira.

Layla was there, and Viv and Henley, and Jewel, and both of Freddie’s brothers, and Rafe (who was behaving himself), and Freddie and Blue. They’d brought Mira last-minute birthday gifts, like a mix CD, a Curses & Kisses T-shirt, a chipmunk Viv claimed was tame (but wasn’t), and Wills’s car keys, which she was pretty sure she’d have to give back once Wills realized they were missing—but she thanked Henley for the Porsche anyway.

Mira had discarded her rose-print dress in favor of a borrowed swimsuit, shorts, and her new Curses & Kisses T-shirt.

There were a few hours left in her sweet sixteen, and she was determined to make the most of them. To squeeze some sweetness out of what had been one of the worst, and most important, days of her life.

Just before they unveiled the cake, Viv told Mira they had another surprise for her: wishes. Like at her christening party. Only this time, they wouldn’t come true unless she made them come true. It was more for fun.

Caspian and Freddie built a fire, and Layla handed out strips of colored paper, which the guests used to write a wish for Mira. They took turns stepping up to the fire and reading their wishes, then casting the colored paper into the flames. The smoke feathered upward, carrying their wishes to the stars.

From Layla: true love. From Viv: to only sleep when you want to.

Henley wished her patience; Caspian, that you’ll always have mermaid hair ; Wills, a bank account that never empties.

Jewel said magic, and tossed in the sapphire that slipped out with the word. Rafe set his beer down long enough to wish her eternal hotness.

From Freddie: trust. From Blue: hope.

And when it was Mira’s turn to make a wish, she stepped up to her birthday cake, airy vanilla frosting studded with pink and blue stars—and she blew out all sixteen candles in one blow, and wished that things had been different.

They didn’t sing “Happy Birthday.” Freddie got his guitar, and he and Jewel did “Summertime” instead, and “Wild Horses” as an encore. They ate cake, pink and blue frosting staining their lips. Wills got the hose and filled a bunch of water balloons, and they chose teams and had a water balloon fight, running barefoot through the grass, using the trees and the cabana as cover and then launching an attack. They battled until they were soaked, then stripped down to their swimsuits and jumped into the pool.

Mira stayed on land, though they shouted for her to join them. “Later!” she promised.

She watched her friends splashing in the pool, and she was filled with a very different emotion from the loneliness she’d felt in the past. There was a sense of belonging now, and happiness, though it was incomplete. Deep inside, she was aching; she’d been in love, and it had gone terribly wrong—but she wouldn’t let herself be devastated by a broken heart this time. She could go on from that.

She knew she could.

The razor blade hanging from her neck made her feel brave. Honest. A naked blade hid nothing, feared nothing. She wanted to be like that. Because that was how you found yourself, created yourself. You didn’t hide. You didn’t wait for the perfect moment to settle on you like a butterfly, like magic.

You went out and made magic. Made your own wishes come true.

Mira filled another water balloon and tied it off, then carried the wobbling weapon through the leafy darkness of the backyard. Brushing aside willow fronds and swatting at mosquitoes, she crept deeper, until the moon revealed Blue sitting at the base of a weeping willow tree.

Her damp Curses & Kisses T-shirt sagged on her hips, heavy with water from the water balloon fight. When he looked at her, it made her conscious of her body. Of everything.

“Hey,” she said tentatively.

“Hey, birthday girl.” He lifted a hand in greeting. “So did you mean that before?”

“Mean?” She’d said so many things.

“When you told your godmothers you didn’t want anything to do with me. At first, I thought you meant it, but I dunno; that sounds like something a smart person would say.”

She’d been about to reassure him; now she bit her lip to keep a straight face, and prepared the water balloon for launch.

“Did you not notice that I’m armed?”

“Sorry to ruin your plans, Mira, but this isn’t The Wizard of Oz. I’m not going to melt.”

She tossed the balloon anyway, halfheartedly, and it burst near his feet.

“That was a waste of an attack,” he muttered. He was so moody right now. …

Mira crouched next to him. “Of course I didn’t mean it,” she said—because maybe he needed to hear it. “I said it because I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to hear them say anything bad about you. I already know they’re wrong.”

Blue shook his head. “They’re not wrong. That’s the problem. I have the capacity—the destiny—to be a villain. Just like you needed to know the truth about Felix. And needed to sleep. We can fight it, but …”

“But fate has a way of twisting our efforts, to get what it wants.” Fate, or other people, she thought bitterly, recalling the role Delilah had played in all this.

“Right. And I don’t ever want to—I don’t—” He gave up, frustrated. “You know what I’m trying to say?”

“You don’t ever want to hurt me.”

Blue nodded. “And you already saw how easy it is—how inevitable. So your godmothers are right. I mean, I didn’t like hearing that, but they’re right.”

“It’s not inevitable,” she said. Because you’re you. Because you’re not selfish.

She knew that she would hurt herself before she would ever hurt someone she cared about, and she felt like Blue was that way, too. He’d shown her, in the things he said, the way he cut himself off from the love he desperately needed. Love that would be so easy to steal.

His regret over what had happened to Jane on his sixteenth birthday was for what she had lost—not what he would never have.

Blue touched his fingertip to the razor blade that hung around her throat. “I still think you should keep this if you want to. And … god, I can’t believe I’m saying this, I shouldn’t defend him, he’s an asshole—but thank you for not telling them about Felix. Because those fairies would have—” He closed his eyes, like he was picturing something horrible. And he looked guilty when he opened them. Like there shouldn’t be any mercy for someone like Felix.

Or for someone like him.

“I know,” she said. “He’s your brother. I understand. And I wouldn’t …” She shook her head. “I’m not vengeful. I don’t believe in torture.”

“You’re something special,” he murmured, a sad smile forming on his lips as he lifted the razor blade from where it lay against her chest. He raised the flat of the blade to his mouth and kissed it.

“Don’t flirt with me, Romantic,” she said. But she was kidding—she knew he heard it in her voice.

“I’m not,” he said, still with that same sad smile. “I’m not this time, I promise. You’re just—you’re something else, someone really special, and I feel completely justified in being in love with you.”

Her heart froze in her chest. Stopped like time had stopped.

“Blue …”

He laid his hot forehead against hers and whispered, “Don’t say anything, Mira. I don’t need you to say anything. I just need you to know.”

They stayed like that for a moment, and Mira closed her eyes, conscious of the sweat slipping down their skin, their fingers slowly finding each other and twining together, tighter and tighter because this was good-bye.

“I’m going to go now,” he said. “But thank you. Thank you for everything.”

Their fingers unfurled, separated, so only the heat was left behind. He lifted his head from hers, and the night breeze swept in as he moved away.

When Mira opened her eyes, his back was to her. He was standing a few feet away, playing with the end of a willow branch.

“Wait,” she called. “What if I don’t like you? Like, really don’t like you?”

Blue turned, studying her. “You really don’t?”

She nodded quickly, her throat too tight to speak, eyes filling with tears. Don’t leave me, don’t leave, don’t leave.

He came closer, chest rising and falling with his breath, so nervous she could see it like an aura around him. “You really don’t?”

“I really don’t,” she whispered.

Tentatively, he reached for her. His hand cradled her cheek, and his gaze held hers for the length of one slow breath—long enough to give her the chance to pull away.

And then he kissed her and the tears she’d been holding overflowed when she closed her eyes. He pulled her to him, crushed her against his chest, his heart pounding against hers; and she held on tight, so tight, because she might never hold him again and she wanted to feel all of him, to remember this, always.

She was lying. Could he taste the lie?

Because she could feel it: her strength draining away, her love leaving her. The sweet shock of his mouth was like touching her tongue to a live wire. It seared her senses; it made her feel alive, even as it sucked that life away—and she kept coming back to it, again and again. Waves of sensation pulled her under—drowning her. But Blue made drowning feel like the loveliest thing. Like she was losing her breath, but she didn’t need it, didn’t want it, only wanted him …

“Mira, god, Mira,” he whispered. The hand not clutching her against him was in her hair, shaking now against the back of her neck, and she knew he knew. How she felt. What he meant to her. What she’d realized.

His skin was more vibrant, his eyes shining a beautiful night-sea silver in the moonlight, and she felt weak in the knees. Reckless, and happy. She’d felt her strength dissolve with every press of his lips. Every soft surrender had taken more from her, life energy slipping from her mouth to his—and it was worth it, it was all worth it. Because he’d taken a piece of her—but now she had a piece of him, too.

“You crazy liar,” he said breathlessly.

“You knew I was lying.”

“Not to—that degree.”

“Okay, so maybe I like you a little,” she said, before she dropped and his arm snapped around her to hold her up. He lowered her gently to the grass, and leaned her against him, his body strong like the trunk of the willow tree. It felt wonderful to be that close to him … and to not worry, for once, that it was wrong to want to be there.

“I’ll be okay,” she assured him. “I just need to get my strength back. Just don’t kiss me again until I get it back. It always comes back.”

“We can’t do that again,” he said.

“We can be more careful. We’ll take it slow, we’ll figure it out, and—”

“No,” he said, sighing deeply. “No, we can’t, we can’t. … Don’t ever do that again. And … shit,” he muttered. He was searching for something, fumbling; and then he laid a flat plastic card in her hand, and folded her fingers around it. “Don’t ever let me do that again,” he said. “And … don’t ever go into suite 3024 at the Dream. It’s private.”

Mira stared at him, openmouthed. His passkey was in her hand.

“You’re kidding, right? You don’t have a—a room—for …”

“You have to promise me. You can’t ever go in there.

I’m serious. I’m not playing. Promise me,” he said.

“Of course,” she said softly. “I would never.”

Blue was silent a moment. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, as if trying to make up for lost time. When she reached for his hand, he pulled away. Gently, but with a finality that made her sad.

“I want to stay,” he admitted. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I feel like … like I came up from being underwater, and I can finally breathe. I don’t want to stop feeling that way. That’s how I know I have to leave.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she said. “I know you wouldn’t. I know you.”

Blue shook his head. “You don’t know all of me; I don’t even know all of me. But I know that the more I’m with you, the more I want to be with you. It’s been over a year since I last—” His voice broke, and he stopped.

Mira laid her hand over his. This time, he didn’t pull away.

“I’m afraid I’ll break down,” he said. “I need what you have. How you feel. I need love like I need water or air. And I won’t take that from you. I won’t let myself.”

“So you’re leaving,” she murmured. Again. She felt like she’d already lost him once tonight—and he’d come back to her. But he wasn’t going to stay.

“I have to. It’s the only way I can make sure I’ll never hurt you.”

She’d wanted to believe that Felix was worthy of her heart. She’d made excuses for him even when he’d hurt her, lied to her. She never had to make excuses for Blue. Blue was every noble thing she’d loved, and wanted Felix to be. It killed her that she’d been so blind to that. And that, just as she realized it, she had to lose him.

It was hard for her to speak. Every word hurt.

“What if it’s worth it to me to take that chance?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t listen, but needing to try.

“Then you don’t know what you’re risking,” he said. “I do. I know what you would lose. And nothing is worth destroying that.”

“But you’ll destroy yourself.”

He nodded. “I know this sounds weird, Mira, but I’m not really scared of dying. I’ve been preparing for it my whole life. It’s written in my tale that someone Honor-bound is supposed to kill me … and I’d rather be the person responsible for my death than become more of a villain than I already am. That can be my one heroic act,” he said with a faint smile. “The one I’m allowed.”

“Blue …”

He kissed the tips of her hair—lifted a golden lock to his lips, as if it were her hand, to bid her farewell. “Good-bye, Mira.”

He was gone.

Blue left, and she didn’t follow.

She knew that he was probably still at the party, letting his friends know he was leaving. Maybe Freddie would try to talk him out of it. Or maybe they’d all expected this: either his resistance would break, or he’d disappear. One way or another, it had to come to an end.

He was right to go. Rationally, she knew that.

Mira sat with her back against the willow tree. She felt shaky, like she needed to eat, though that wasn’t the problem. And while she knew her strength would return, there was no guarantee that she would survive every kiss, that they wouldn’t get carried away and go too far, or touch for too long. She could end up as just another girl in a forbidden room, a sleeping beauty who would never wake.

He didn’t want that for her. And she didn’t want that either. It was the wrong kind of forever. A soulless, frozen love.

Wind rustled through the trees, a hushing whisper all around her. The willow fronds quivered, shaking like her shoulders shook as she struggled not to cry.

You were never meant to be together. That’s not why you came here … that wasn’t your destiny.

She didn’t want to die in his arms. And the only way to ensure that was to stay apart.

But she also knew that if she let Blue go, he would die. Maybe not right away, but much too soon. And she couldn’t bear that.

Mira went back and forth, trying to decide what she should let him sacrifice, what she should sacrifice. … She took a deep breath, and stared up at the black, sparkling sky.

She wished one of those stars was more than just a star, capable of granting a wish. Because she would give up her supposed “lovely voice” and her “perfect dancing” and her grace and beauty and whatever else those seven fairies had promised at her christening. She would give them all up to save him.

But you couldn’t make trades. You couldn’t undo what had been done. Even in the case of Mira’s own curse, Bliss had only been able to soften …

Soften.

Maybe …

Maybe she wasn’t done fighting.

Mira’s chest swelled with a hope so immense it hurt. She was afraid to want something more and lose that, too. But she had to try.

Using the tree for balance, she pushed herself to her feet and waited for the dizziness to subside. Then she started back toward the party. Her legs felt leaden and like jelly at the same time. But she kept going. She wouldn’t give up on him.

She spotted Freddie leaning against the pool fence, arguing with Blue. She wanted to go to them, and tell Blue there might be a chance—but she couldn’t get his hopes up. Not until she was sure she could save him.

There had to be a way to save him. …