The cottage living room was a sanctuary of soft lamplight and lingering celebration at 10:47 p.m., the air still humming with the echoes of the ice arena’s joy.

Laken Voss sat cross-legged on the worn leather couch (midnight-blue dress traded for Reed’s old hoodie, the dragon-stone engagement ring catching the glow of the fireplace). Reed Garrett sprawled beside her (shirt untucked, dragon-stone scars dimmed to a gentle silver, his hand never leaving hers).

Harold ...