By the evening, my nerves are stretched painfully tight.
I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting the sleeves of my black shirt for what has to be the fifth time whilst Faé paces restlessly beneath my skin.
“You’re being weird,” Nell says softly from behind me.
I glance up into the mirror and immediately lose my train of thought.
She’s standing near the bed in that deep green dress we picked earlier, her hair tied up with just a few strands hanging loose around her face, her mark visible against her throat.
Mine.
The sight of it still hits me every single time.
Her eyes catch on my neck too and I feel the warm pulse of possessive satisfaction move through the bond before she even realises she’s projecting it.
A small smile tugs at my mouth.
I cross the room slowly towards her and
