The ring had been in my pocket for three weeks, and I was going to lose my fucking mind.

​

I'd wanted to ask her the day after I told her I loved her. Hell, I'd wanted to ask her the moment I realized what she was to me—back in that godsdamned basement when I thought I'd lost her forever. But Lorenzo had talked me down. "Give it time," he'd said. "Let her heal. Let things settle."

 

So I'd waited. Nine months of wanting to put my ring on her finger and claim her in front of everyone who mattered. Nine months of dates and stolen moments and slowly building the life I wanted with her.

 

But tonight, I was done waiting.

 

Merrit's curiosity filtered through the bond as I led her deeper into the palace gardens than we'd ever gone before. Past the manicured hedges and marble fountains, into the wild section where ancient magic still hummed beneath the earth.

 

"Where are we going?" she projected.

 

"You'll see."

 

"That's not an answer."

 

"It's the only answer you're getting."

 

Her suspicion mixed with amusement trickled through our connection. After almost a year together, she could read my moods as easily as I could read hers. She knew something was happening. She just didn't know what.

 

Good. I wanted to surprise her.

 

The iron gates appeared through the trees—wrought in an old style, wound through with silver vines that hadn't been touched in ninety-nine years. The wards hummed against my skin as I approached, recognizing my blood, my right to be here.

 

Merrit stopped dead. "Kieran. Those wards are—"

 

"Royal wards. Family only." I pulled the key from my pocket—the same key my father had used, and his father before him. "This is the Astria Garden."

 

Her eyes widened. Even she, with all her time in the archives researching her family, hadn't found mention of this place. Because we didn't write it down. Didn't speak of it outside the family.

 

"I've never heard of—"

 

"No one has. It's a family secret. Has been for centuries." I unlocked the gates, felt the wards release with a whisper of ancient magic. "The flowers bloom once every hundred years. Tonight."

 

I felt her shock ripple through me. "Once every—Kieran, that's—"

​

"Rare. I know." I pushed the gates open, revealing the wild garden beyond. "I saw them bloom when I was young. About seventy years old. My father brought me to see it, told me about the magic, the legend." I caught her hand, pulled her through the gates. "I've been waiting three hundred years to see them again. And I wanted you with me when I did."

 

The clearing was exactly as I remembered—wilder now, the trees taller, but the same essential magic thrumming beneath everything. White stone path, ancient trees dripping with silver moss, and in the center, the blanket and picnic I'd had prepared.

 

Merrit took it in: the careful arrangement, the basket of food, the bottle of wine from Rhett's personal collection that had cost me a favor I'd probably regret later.

 

"You planned this." Not a question.

 

"I've been planning this for months." Since the moment I decided I was going to marry her, I started figuring out how to make the proposal worthy of her.

 

She turned to look at me, and I felt her realization in my chest. This wasn't just a date. This was something else. Something more.

 

"Sit with me," I said. "The blooms start at full sunset. We have time."

 

We settled on the blanket, and I unpacked the food—her favorites from both worlds, because she was both worlds now. Divide and Court, past and future, all of it woven together into the woman I loved.

 

"Tell me about this place," she signed after we'd eaten, leaning back to watch the ancient trees overhead.

 

The sun was sinking low, painting everything in amber and gold. Soon. Very soon.

 

"My parents were engaged here," I said. "Not proposed—they'd already agreed to marry. But they came here on the night of the bloom to make it official. To witness the magic together before they made their vows." I paused, remembering my father's face when he'd told me the story. "He said it was the most beautiful night of his life. That the flowers blessed their union."

 

Through the bond, I felt her understanding. Why I'd brought her here. What this meant.

 

"They were married for seven hundred years," I continued. "Had six sons. Built a kingdom together. And it all started here, under these flowers."

 

"Kieran—" Her hands moved, but I caught them gently.

 

"Wait," I said. "Just wait."

 

The sun touched the horizon, and the garden went absolutely still.

 

Then, slowly, the Astria blooms began to open.

 

I'd forgotten how beautiful they were. Delicate flowers clustered in the ancient trees, each one opening to release a soft golden glow. Not harsh, but gentle, like candlelight manifested from pure magic. The pollen drifted down in lazy spirals, each mote glowing, turning the air itself luminous.

 

Merrit's wonder crashed through me, pure and bright as the flowers themselves.

 

More blooms opened. Hundreds, then thousands, until the entire garden blazed with golden light. The pollen swirled around us like living stars, and I remembered this—remembered being seventy years old and thinking it was the most magical thing I'd ever seen.

 

I'd been right then. I was right now.

 

"They respond to emotion," I murmured. "Strong feelings make them bloom brighter. Love, joy, passion—the magic feeds on it."

 

She turned to me, pollen caught in her copper hair, making her glow. "Kieran, this is—"

 

"Not done yet." I pulled the ring box from my pocket.

 

Her breath caught.

 

"I've wanted to do this since the day I told you I loved you," I said, opening the box. My mother's sapphire caught the golden light, surrounded by small diamonds I'd had arranged into the stars of the Vaerin crest. "Probably before that, if I'm honest. I saw you in that bar and something in me just knew. This is mine. She's mine. I'm keeping her."

 

"Possessive," she projected, but I felt her pleasure at the words.

 

"You knew what you were getting into." I took her hand—the one that would wear my ring, that would mark her as mine to everyone who looked. "This was my mother's. I had it redesigned. Added your family’s stars."

 

Her fingers traced the Vaerin constellation, and through the bond, I felt her emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

 

"My parents started their forever here," I said. "Under these flowers. Witnessed by this magic. And I want—" I stopped, made myself say it right. "I'm asking you to marry me. Not because the bond made us Whisperbound, but because I choose you. Every day. For the next thousand years and whatever comes after."

 

The flowers around us flared brighter, responding to what was building between us.

 

"I want you as my wife," I continued. "Want to make promises in front of everyone and keep them forever. Want to come back here in a hundred years and two hundred years and watch these flowers bloom with you again and again." I met her eyes. "Want everything, Merrit. All of it. With you."

 

Tears tracked down her cheeks, glowing where the pollen clung to them. Her joy, her love, her certainty filled me to the brim.

 

Her hands moved, signing clearly: "Yes."

 

That was all I needed.

 

I got the ring on her finger, and then I was kissing her, one hand in her hair, the other at her waist, pulling her close. She responded immediately—no hesitation, never hesitation with her—her hands fisted in my shirt, the bond singing between us.

 

The Astria blooms exploded with light. Golden pollen swirled thick as a storm, the magic responding to our emotions, to the love and want and need pouring through our connection. The whole garden blazed like we'd summoned the sun.

 

The kiss deepened, turned hungry. Nine months of dates and stolen moments, but this was different. This was a promise made and accepted. She was mine, finally, completely, in every way that mattered.

 

I pulled her down to the blanket, the golden light washing over us, pollen falling like stars. Her hands were in my hair, my name a silent prayer through our connection, and I felt her want matching mine—fierce and bright and absolutely certain.

 

"Mine," I projected, the word more feeling than language.

 

"Yours," she sent back. "Always."

 

The garden blazed brighter still.

 

 

Later—how much later, I couldn't say—we lay tangled together on the blanket, both glowing with Astria pollen, our breathing finally steadying. The flowers were still brilliant overhead, feeding on what they'd witnessed.

 

She lifted her hand, and I watched as she studied the ring in the golden light. The Vaerin stars glittered among the diamonds, and my mother's sapphire looked like it was glowing from within.

 

"We'll see them bloom again," I said against her temple. "In a hundred years. And two hundred. And five hundred. You and me, together, for all of it."

 

She pulled back to look at me. "Forever."

 

"Forever," I agreed. "And everyone's going to know it."

 

Through the bond, I felt her understanding. This wasn't just about us. It was about claiming each other publicly. Making it official. Showing the Court and the Divide and everyone else that she was mine and I was hers.

 

"When?" she signed.

 

"Soon. I've been patient long enough." I caught her hand, the one wearing my ring, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Unless you want a long engagement?"

 

"No." The word was emphatic as it echoed through our connection. "Soon. I want everyone to know."

 

Possessive. Just like me.

 

Perfect.

 

The Astria blossoms were beginning to dim, their century of blooming drawing to a close. The light faded slowly, golden pollen settling on everything like stardust. By full dark, they'd be dormant again.

 

But we'd been here. Witnessed it together. Made promises under flowers that would bloom nine more times in our lives, maybe more.

 

"Thank you," she projected. "For sharing this with me."

 

"It's ours now," I said. "This place. This moment. All of it." I stood, pulled her up with me.

 

We dressed slowly, reluctant to break the spell of the moment. I helped her with the laces of her dress, stealing kisses as I did, while she straightened my shirt with hands that still trembled slightly. Both of us were covered in golden pollen, glowing faintly in the dimming light.

 

"Come on. I want to tell everyone before I lose my mind keeping this secret. Do you know how difficult it is to keep a surprise under my hat with a telepath around?"

 

She laughed—rare and bright—and I felt her joy through the bond.

 

We gathered the picnic things, neither of us quite ready to leave. The garden would seal itself at full dark, wards resetting for another hundred years.

 

We'd be back. Together.

 

At the gates, she stopped and looked back one more time.

 

"Memorizing it?" I asked.

 

"Yes." She turned to me. "For next time."

 

Next time. A hundred years from now. Still together. Still us.

 

I locked the gates behind us, sealing the garden until we returned.

 

As we walked back toward the castle, her hand in mine, her ring catching the moonlight, I felt satisfied in a way I hadn't in months. She'd said yes. She wore my ring. Soon, everyone would know she was mine.

 

"I love you," I projected through the bond.

​

"I know," she sent back, and I felt her smirk. "You're not exactly subtle."

 

"Never claimed to be."

 

"No, you claimed me instead."

 

"Damn right I did."

 

Her laughter echoed through my chest, warm and bright as the Astria blooms had been.

 

Tomorrow, we'd tell everyone. Plan the wedding. Navigate the politics of it all.

 

But tonight was ours. This moment, this promise, this beginning.

 

I looked at her—my Whisperbound, my future wife—and knew with absolute certainty that I'd made the right choice three hundred years ago when I decided to wait for this night.

 

The only choice that mattered.

 

Her. Always her.

 

Forever.