June
For a second, nobody moves. Ronan and I stand inches apart, caught in the same breath, the same stunned stillness.
Then the room explodes.
Sylvie makes a sound that is half gasp, half shriek, like her soul just vacated her body and came back with jazz hands. Vayda’s hands fly to her mouth, eyes wide, then she’s smiling so hard it almost hurts to look at.
“Oh my Goddess,” Vayda whispers.
Sylvie points at me like I personally orchestrated the universe. “SECOND. CHANCE. MATES. I knew it!”
“I—what—no you didn’t know that,” I manage.
“I felt it in my spirit,” she says solemnly. “Also I’m psychic now.”
I try to laugh, but something catches in my chest. Because when I look back at Ronan— he isn’t smiling. He looks strained. Not distant. Not cold. Like he’s holding himself together b
