"Now, for the next few hours, you are free to do as you please." He reached for his goblet, bringing it to his lips. "No one will judge you here. No eyes will linger." Then, his eyes met hers over the glass. "Except, maybe, for mine."

Her breath hitched, her fingers knotting inher lap, unsure of what to do or say, but he only watched her, his lips curving upward slightly - like he enjoyed her response.

"Why are you doing all of this for me, Axel?" she asked finally, her eyes assessing.

His lips quirked before he took another slow swig from his glass, setting it back on the table. "Because selfishly, I would see you smile again." His eyes held hers. "I would wish to hear you laugh again - if only for tonight."

The lingering shafts of sunlight caught in his eyes, turning them molten gold, and she stilled. She was so unused to this version of him, the side that was warm, unguarded, open. The side of him that made her question everything she thought she knew of him.

It made her want to know him deeper - to unravel the parts of him he kept so tightly guarded, wrapped in shadow.

She wanted to see him as clearly as he saw her.

And after everything they had endured together, she wondered if he would let her.

“It’s time you stopped waiting, Sylvie - lingering in only death and shame - and chose to live.”

Then, without warning he took her hand. His grip was firm as he pulled her from her chair. The fabric of her dress swayed, catching in the fading light.

“What are you doing?” she asked, surprise flickering across her face.

Axel’s lips curved, mischief flickering in his gaze. Dangerous. Irresistible. Instantly capturing her whole.

“Teaching you another lesson.”

Her pulse quickened. “And what could that possibly be?”

“To let go.” His voice had dropped lower, richer, a command wrapped in silk.

Before she could respond, he pulled her closer. His arms wound around her, his fingers pressing into the curve of her waist. His touch was firm yet gentle - like he was savoring the shape of her, committing her to memory. Heat bloomed beneath his hands, her heartbeathammering like a war drum in her chest. Her lips parted, caught between a protest and surrender.

“I have trained you in the art of magic, blade, and body,” he murmured. “But every warrior must also learn how to truly live.”

Those eyes - pooling liquid gold - held her captive.

“Tonight, Sylvie.” His breath was at her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Live.”

Chapter Twenty-One

The fairies rose to meet them, ascending into the night in a luminous dance. Their wings shimmered like scattered stars, their tiny bodies twirling as they wove trails of light through the air. A new song stirred, its rhythm fast and free.

“Let go.” Axel commanded once more, and she knew she was instantly powerless. His voice curled around her like a spell, and she could feel her hesitation slipping, her guards falling away like they had never been. Something danced within his eyes, something she yearned to reach, to touch, to know. She was so close, his body’s warmth seeping into her, rich waves of tangible desire overtaking her in one untamed sweep. As she took him in, her cheeks burned.

She’d never get used to this -to him.

The way he still managed to steal her breath, her wits, and all sense of reason. As she searched the plains of his face, she wondered if he knew his affect on her. How he made her breath hitch, how he was the first person that came to her mind upon opening her eyes, and lingered in her thoughts long after she closed them down again at night. How his energy was so intoxicating, it lingered long after he left, as if seared into her body, her soul. How the way he was lookingat her now, sent butterflies dancing in her belly in elation - but also warning.

Warning her of her open heart, and how easy it would be to let him fully inside it.

How much she already had.

“I don’t know how…” She admitted. A nervous tendril curled around her gut, twisting into a firm knot.

And she didn’t. She didn’t know how to be this person - a woman who could embody their longing, enjoy this flirtation - or whatever it was - especially with someone like him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

Her breath hitched but she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”