Page 40 of The Beauty and the Griffin

Frowning, I pondered this. “After I played with Othniel . . . withyouin your garden, I tried to tell my father about visiting you, but he believed I had an overactive imagination. Only my grandaunt took my story seriously.”

“As soon as I met you, I knew you’d come to my garden by means of magic. And then I discovered you could understand cinder-sprite language and even told me their names! Honestly, that was one of the best days of my childhood. When you never came back . . .” He frowned. “It took a few weeks to work up the courage, but I finally told my magic tutor about you. He got all excited and told me about the Fated Mates prophecy and where I might find the redacted records in the palace archives, just to verify its existence.”

“And you read them?” I asked when he paused.

His smile made me think of a sunrise. “Of course! And since then, I have studied the phenomenon extensively.”

Of course, I could guess where his story was leading. Even so, his words, his expression, the implications . . . it felt like one of those dreams that start out delightfully but inevitably devolve into something disturbing.

I stopped, folded my arms, and took a step back to look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Are you using magic on me?”

He faced me, his expression open, curious. “No. Why?”

I braced myself and blurted, “The way we met tonight. The . . . the instant attraction. The way time seemed to stop.” My face burned. “Things like that don’t happen in reality. Not to me.”

He huffed a little laugh. “And here I thought you might be enchanting me in some way I couldn’t identify.”

My stomach dipped, and I felt almost ill. “Certainly not! I can sense other people’s magic and understand cinder sprites if they talk to me, but that’s the extent of it.”

He frowned in thought. “Whatever the cause, you and I seem to be experiencing the same singularity. This mutual attraction we feel is genuine, and to me it feels natural. How could any man look into your eyes and not fall head over heels?”

I read only truth in his eyes, and his magic felt warm and familiar. So, maybe this dream, or whatever it was, wouldn’t turn into a nightmare after all. In a quick reversal, I suddenly wanted to test its parameters.

When I took a step forward, Niel’s face lit up, and he met me halfway, gently taking my gloved hands and pressing my palms flat against his chest so that I felt his pounding heart. He gazed into my eyes, and even though I’d never been kissed or embraced by any man in a romantic sense, I felt no fear at all. Everything about this man seemed perfect to me—his height, his voice, his features, his build, and his expression, which was currently a blend of awe, wonder, and excitement. He slipped his arms around me, and I melted into him, my head tucked beneath his chin. I felt valued, even loved, and it all felt so right!

His voice rumbled near my ear: “Beatrice, I have a confession to make: last night I decided to defy Fate and never marry at all.”

My heart twinged, and I peered up at his face. “You did?” My voice quivered, but the gentle warmth of his embrace stopped me from pulling away.

“Yes. The thought of a loveless political alliance sickened me.” He drew an unsteady breath. “After so many years, I feared you were an impossible dream.” I felt his arms tighten slightly around me. “I am happier than words can express right now, because you’re the only woman I will ever love. My future wife.”

“I don’t believe in Fate anyway,” I admitted as joy gushed through me like a fountain . . . until a flash of my plaguing practicality pulled the plug. “But . . . is any of this real? I mean, what if it’s only a dream?”

I felt his embrace tighten as if his strength could influence reality. “Can two people dream the same dream? How did you arrive here?”

“I fell asleep in a cave, then heard someone speak to me. I opened my eyes and found myself in a canopied bed in a guest room. Two maids helped me prepare for the ball.”

“Hmm. Sounds like you’re visiting me in your sleep.”

I stiffened, leaning back enough to see his face. “Then itisonly a dream? None of this is real?”

“Beatrice, you’re no phantom or vision. I’m wide awake. This is my world, my time, my coronation ball.” When he gently cradled my face in his bare hands, heat rushed into my face. “You’re really here.” His low voice rumbled through me, and his breath was sweet. “This is very real.”

“But . . .” I shook my head. “Howam I here?”

His eyes glowed in the deepening twilight. “I have no idea, but I fully intend to learn everything there is to know and do everything that can be done so that we can be together permanently.”

When his hands threaded through my hair, I closed my eyes, half-hoping it might tumble down. How romantic that would be! But although my emotions ran wild and free, my brain and mouth remained practical. “But . . . I don’t exist. I mean, not here and now.” My voice was ridiculously breathy. “Except for . . . now and . . . here.”

When his breath stopped, I peeked. The corners of his eyes were crinkled, and as soon as my gaze met his, he turned his head to keep from laughing in my face. I couldn’t help chuckling with him at my own expense. “You know what I mean!”

“Oddly enough, I do.”

Sobering, we studied one another at close range. The set of his jaw and the resolve in his eyes dissolved any doubt of his intentions. I both felt and heard him draw a quivering breath before he spoke: “Nevertheless,hereandnowthat I’ve found you, I don’t care whether our love is fated or otherwise. There will be a path. We cannot change the past or determine the future, but our choices set aspects of the future into motion. Your dream is my reality,now and here. We’ve been offered True Love, and a path will certainly be provided for us to fulfill it. We will find each other again.”

“I don’t understand this at all . . . but I will look for you too, in my future.” I frowned. “IfI remember any of this when I wake up.”

“If you don’t, I will remind you. I’ll find a way.” His thumbs brushed my jawline as he cradled my face. “I sense that our time is short, so I’ll talk fast: I’ve waited for your return all these years, Beatrice de Callen, and I will continue to wait until we can be together forever. May I kiss you?”

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