Aurelia Song had loved a mortal woman for three seasons, and the sacred law said that love would cost her wings. She knew the law only in whispers. The old fairies spoke it behind cupped hands, in pieces, never whole. Without the exact words, she could find no crack to pry it open. So tonight she knelt in the frost beneath the icy willow, where the elders carved their oldest laws into frozen crystal. Her guardian paced the roots behind her. The great black beast had three heads and golden eyes, and it had guarded her since birth. Now all six eyes watched the dark for intruders. If the elders caught her here, they would bind her to the law before she ever understood it. Aurelia pressed her palm to a crystal drop. Faint words glowed under the ice. She read fast. *A princess who gives her heart to a mortal forfeits her wings at the next full moon.* Her stomach dropped. The moon would be full in two nights. Boots crunched on frost behind her. She spun, light flaring in her hands. "It's me." Mara Thornwick stepped into the glow, palms raised. The mortal wore her worn leather vest and muddy boots. A small white satyr trotted at her heels, hooves clicking, chewing a willow leaf. Mara had climbed the warded hill to reach her, and the wards left burns across both her forearms. "You shouldn't be here," Aurelia whispered. "The guardian could have torn you apart." "It knows my smell now." Mara knelt beside her. The three-headed beast only huffed. "You've been coming here every night. You didn't tell me." "Because the law is worse than we feared." Aurelia pointed at the glowing crystal. "Two nights. Then I lose my wings for loving you." Mara read the words. Her jaw tightened. She traced the ice with one finger, slow, careful. "Read it again. Out loud. Every word." Aurelia obeyed. Mara stopped her on the last line. "*Gives her heart.*" Mara looked up. "Not loves. Not marries. *Gives.* A gift. A gift can be refused. A gift can be returned." Aurelia stared at the words. The elders had written a trap, but they had written it like a bargain. And bargains had terms. "If I never give it," she said slowly, "if I keep it and only lend it—" "Then there's nothing to forfeit." Mara gripped her hand. "We need the whole law. Every clause. Not just this stone." Aurelia pulled her own light from the crystal. The words faded, but she had them now, carved into memory at last. She knew the exact wording. She knew it hid a loophole. She also knew two nights was not enough time to find the rest. And the full moon would not wait. "The elders keep the full law in the inner grove," Aurelia said. "We have to steal it before the moon rises."