My eyes well with tears. Frowning, Anya leans in close. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Before I can answer, the door swings open. Ivan is in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light like an avenging angel. He’s as beautiful as he was in any of my dreams with his crown of dark hair and burnished gold eyes.
“You can go, Anya,” he says firmly, never taking his eyes off of me. “Cora needs to rest.”
Without another word, Anya stands up. She pats her brother’s shoulder softly before she closes the door and leaves us alone.
The room shrinks around us. He’s standing a dozen feet away, but he might as well be breathing down my neck the way my heart is hammering against my ribs.
I repeat the words to myself again and again as if my mind might be able to keep my heart in line. Like there’s a c
