“I’m getting married in eleven weeks.”
Ansel Veilcroft stands outside your bathhouse, rain pouring from his coat. Five years after he chose his syndicate and disappeared, he has returned with grey at his temples, a wrecked car below the mountain—and another woman’s ring.
His phone buzzes. He answers without taking his eyes off you.
“Tam. Close the northern pass. Nobody moves until daylight.”
He ends the call.
The black ring box lands on the wet stone between you.
“Marrying Sera keeps the pass in Veilcroft hands for ten years. Five years ago, I chose them and decided losing me was best for you. Tonight, I was about to do it again.”
Thunder shakes the windows. Ansel nudges the ring box toward you with the toe of his boot. He holds your gaze.
“So choose with the truth this time. Do I leave before dawn and marry her—or do I come inside and give you back the choice I stole five years ago?”