But mostly, it was Morgane’s.

He didn’t wake.

Sighing in defeat, I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heart. How many times had I lain in this exact position, counting each beat? He’d often stroked my hair, traced my spine, even when things had been strained between us. When things had been good, however, he’d wrapped his strong arms around me and—

A heavy hand fell upon my back.

My eyes snapped open.

Behind me, Célie gasped, Coco gasped—even Beau gasped—as I scrambled to my elbows, staring down at Reid’s face in shock. He blinked back at me, and those eyes—they were the most beautiful shade of blue. Giddy laughter bubbled up my throat at his frown. “Sleeping beauty awakes.”

His hands landed lightly on my waist. “I beg your pardon?”

Skimming a fingertip along his dark lashes, I leaned down to kiss him once more. He drew back before I could. “You slept for a while, Chass. We worried you wouldn’t wake up.” I chuckled and brushed my nose against his. His brows puckered. “You aren’t going to believe where we’ve been.” I didn’t pause for him to guess. “We went underwater, Reid. To the seafloor of L’Eau Mélancolique. You were there too, of course, just unconscious.” My thoughts whirled in an incoherent blur of excitement. Where to begin? So much had happened in such a short period of time. “We walked with melusines in Le Présage—did you know they can grow legs?—and we dined with the Oracle in Le Palais de Cristal. The Oracle is Claud’s sister, remember? Isla. We met Isla, and she was the world’s biggest bitch—”

He stiffened abruptly, and his frown deepened to an outright scowl. “My apologies, mademoiselle, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Please”—he lifted me from his lap, depositing me firmly onto the sand beside him—“allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Reid Diggory.” He cleared his throat pointedly. “And I’d appreciate if you’d refrain from using such coarse language around me in the future.”

I snorted in disbelief. “That’s rich coming from you, Monsieur Fuck.” His eyes widened comically at the expletive, and I laughed out loud. He didn’t. “Fine,” I said, still light with giddiness. His prickliness couldn’t puncture it. He was awake, I was awake, and we were together. Finally. “I’ll play along with this . . . whatever this is. Some sort of foreplay?”

Pushing to my feet, I offered him a hand. He stared as if it might bite him. Shrugging, I brushed off the seat of my pants instead. If his eyes had been wide before, they nearly burst from his face now. “Bonsoir, Captain Diggory.” Laughing again, I dipped in a theatrical bow. “My name is Louise le Blanc, daughter of the infamous Morgane le Blanc, and I am positively chuffed to make your acquaintance. I see you’re missing your official uniform, but no matter. Shall we light the stake now, or—?”

His eyes sharpened on my face, and without warning, he launched to his feet. “What did you say?”

My smile slipped at the sudden fierceness in his voice. I glanced at Coco and Beau, who both looked back in bewilderment. Célie rose slowly behind me. “My name is Louise le Blanc,” I repeated, less theatric now. For someone as stoic as Reid, he could playact much better than I’d anticipated. “And I’m chuffed to make your—”

“You’re the daughter of Morgane le Blanc? A witch?”

Alarm bells began pealing in my head. “Well, yes—”

He tackled me before I could finish.

We hit the ground hard, rolling, and his forearm collided with my throat. My breath left in a painful rush. “Um—ow.” Gasping, I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move. His forearm remained. Combined with the weight of his body, I could scarcely breathe. “Okay, Chass, this role-play thing has officially gone too far—” He only pressed down harder until lights popped in my vision.

Right. This wasn’t fun anymore.

Cocking my head back, I smashed my forehead into his nose, thrusting my knee into his groin when he recoiled. When he bent inward with a groan, I scrambled out from beneath him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled, clutching my throat. “Are you trying to kill me?”

He panted and bared his teeth. “You’re a witch.”

“Yeah? So?”

Ignoring me, he tore at his bandolier, unsheathing one knife and reaching for another—the one directly above his heart. But it wasn’t there. Its sheath remained empty. He checked the others frantically, fingers seizing each one, before he realized what we’d already known. All emotion slid from his face. With deadly calm, he said, “Where is my Balisarda?”

I inched toward Coco. “Stop it, Reid. You’re scaring me.”

He stalked forward slowly, intently, matching each of my steps with his own. “Where is it?”

“A tree ate it.” Coco gripped my elbow and pulled me to her side. We watched him approach together. “In the southern part of the kingdom. Bas and his bandits attacked on the road, and Lou threw your Balisarda to protect me.” She paused, uncertain. “Don’t you remember?”

“You.” Recognition flared as he focused on Coco. “You’re a healer in the Tower.” His eyes dropped to where she clutched my arm, and his lip curled. “Are you in league with this witch?”

“I—” She stopped short when I shook my head, my stomach plunging with déjà vu. I’d had this exact conversation with Bas after he’d tried to kill me in La Fôret des Yeux. Had Reid—?

No.

My mind seized, unwilling to continue thought. He wouldn’t have. He—he couldn’t have. Could he?

“Who am I?” My voice shook as I stepped in front of Coco, toward him and his knife. The movement seemed to surprise him. He didn’t strike right away. Instead, he stared at me with brows furrowed as I carefully pushed down his blade. “How do we know each other?”

He lifted it back to my face. “We don’t.”

No no no

“If this is a joke, Reid, it’s gone far enough.”

“I do not joke.”

The truth of the words fragmented in my chest, and I exhaled deeply, absorbing their pain. No one was this good at playacting. Which meant . . . he had forgotten me. Just like Bas, he’d forgotten, only this time, I couldn’t reverse the pattern. I hadn’t cast it. But how far did it reach?

And why was he acting this way?

I searched blindly for an answer, remembering the way he’d collapsed in my arms. The way Morgane had collapsed with him on the beach. If he’d truly forgotten me, did that mean . . . ?

Holy hell.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Think hard, Reid. Please. Just think. I’m Lou, remember? I’m your . . .” I glanced down at my empty ring finger, and the cracks in my chest splintered further. I’d returned his mother’s ring. Stupid. So stupid. “I’m your wife.”

His eyes hardened. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Easy.” I jerked back as he swiped at me, lifting placating hands. “I am your wife. Maybe not legally, but in the biblical sense—”

Perhaps speaking of his holy book had been a mistake.