“I applied to a lot of places,” he said, tilting his head, and I shook mine. He shrugged. “What? Pembroke’s a good school. Ivy League?”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing like the places you applied to in New York and got in.” I nudged him. “Is Thatcher right? You’ll just miss us so much you can’t bear to be without us?”

His eyes lifted, his smile small. “I don’t know about all that, but I know you and I haven’t gotten a lot of time together,” he said, surprising me. He nodded. “I guess I just figured these next four years would be a good time to make up for that. Get to know my sister. Really know her.”

“Aww. So, you will miss me?”

“Don’t make me regret this decision, little,” he sighed, and I laughed, definitely putting on a front here. I hadn’t said it, but I wouldn’t have argued if I’d found out he’d applied to Pembroke.

I wanted to get to know him too.

I hugged him, and just as hard as I had Ramses in this very kitchen. I hugged my mother in the same way, hugs like that I got to share more and more these days. It’d just been Bru and me when we’d got here, and there were so many more people to hug now, so many more to love.

“Love ya, big,” I said, and he chuckled, hugging me back.

“Love you too, little.” He said it begrudgingly, like it was a chore, but he was bullshitting. He had to have been. I mean, he’d uprooted his plans, and if that didn’t say something, I didn’t know what did.

Pizza night ended up being an evening of laughter and good times, great times. I got to watch a movie under the dark prince’s arm, my friends and family around us sprinkled on various couches/the floor. I’d lost count of all the people in my life I cared about.

Brielle: Love you, honey. Your dad and I will be out late. You might be asleep by the time we come home. We just wanted to let you know. Sending you love from us both.

Dorian’s hand brushed my arm when I got the text, the same words said to me every night whether I saw my parents or not. If they worked late, I got a love you, honey. If they were home, the same. It was usually the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.

Tonight, it was Dorian’s eyes, the glow of the television on his handsome face. The credits were rolling, and everyone else in the room was out, Wells and Bru on the floor, Ares on the couch. Thatcher had actually fallen asleep with a bowl of popcorn on his chair, his head back and earrings dangling. Bow was nestled up against my side, and I was with Dorian. He played with my hair, just looking at me.

“I love you,” he mouthed into the night, no teasing, not an ounce. He wet his lips before pressing our mouths together, tasting my tongue. If heaven was this, I’d take more of it. I’d die happy like this. He was my dark prince, but there was no darkness in my happily ever after. There was a boy who had both black and white wings.

But every day, he chose the light.

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