Author's Note: Yay! There are reviews from new readers! (Well, at least ones who didn't comment in the prequel :)) As always, thanks for the reviews, everyone! I hadn't planned on writing what I did in this chapter, but your reviews brought forth this idea. I'm hoping you'll see the power in this chapter. :)

P.S. This chapter is shorter than usual because I wanted this tender scene to stand alone.


Milori was perched on an evergreen branch up in the trees and was watching Clarion sitting at her window the next morning. She looked happier than he had seen her in decades. Motherhood agreed with her, as he knew it would. She was brushing her long locks absently. He was too far away to see for certain if she was singing, but it looked like she was. He'd never heard her sing, but he didn't have to in order to know she had a beautiful voice—everything about her was beautiful.

As much as he wanted her to be happy, his chest had felt like a huge stone was sitting on top of it since seeing the shooting stars last night. The end of him and her was so final now that she had mated because every fairy knew a mating bound two fairies' glows together forever. Sometimes when the sorrow became too much, he'd let himself pretend that one day they would be together. That dream had died for him last night. Reaching out to touch a branch, he tried to lightly frost it. A sheet of ice formed over it. He sighed. It hadn't instantly shattered like his frosts had made branches do three hundred years ago, but his body temperature was still too cold. That at least gave him some measure of comfort to know he still couldn't even touch her.

Part of him desired to know who she had mated because he wanted to make sure the fairy was a good male who was worthy of her. If he wasn't, Milori would have to have a talk with him and maybe put some fear of Neverland in the bastard. Milori didn't know many of the warm fairies anymore, but Sled or Gliss would know if her mate was a good fairy. On the other hand, maybe he should wait to find out her mate. Right now it all felt so raw for Milori that he might go punch the male, even if her mate was a saint.

Clarion stood, and Milori perked up. She was getting ready to leave. He hated this part—having her leave. She closed her eyes for an instant, letting the sunrise bathe her face with its golden rays and make her auburn curls shine. He was too far to see it, but he remembered exactly how the sunlight would caress her hair to bring out the red and gold flecks in her silky locks. He closed his eyes a moment after he admired her beauty, this ritual bringing him comfort, and he whispered, "I love you."


After talking with Mary last night, Clarion felt full of true hope. She knew that one day could tell Milori again that she loved him. One day she would be able to rescue him. She closed her eyes, as she did religiously just before leaving her view of winter to get ready for the day, and whispered, "I love you, Milori." She willed the wind to carry her words to his ears, wherever he was.