Finn

Kieran leads the charge to the heavy, beaten-copper gate at the top of the winding, shell-strewn path. I do my damnedest not to choke on my heart, which seems to have taken up permanent residence in my throat. I also give myself the gift of not looking at Elian. Even in just my peripheral vision, I can see him looking back and forth between my face at the gate, primed to attempt to guess which of the eligible young men inside forced me to open up to him.

I don’t ...