Not hidden.
Not waiting.
Justwatching.
His eyes catch mine across the clearing. I can’t read his face—but I don’t have to.
Because he gives one slow, silent nod.
That’s all.
But it’severything.
My chest tightens. I turn back to the liaison.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I accept.”
CHAPTER 22
THORN
As the evening settles over the grove, I find Clara standing beneath the sacred tree, her fingers tracing the bark with a delicate reverence that echoes the gentle hum of the earth’s song. Vines and moss gleam with an otherworldly radiance, casting soft tendrils of light that weave through the air like spirit fireflies.
She stands tall, her short dark hair tousled by the whispering breeze, and her eyes reflect the emerald hues of the leaves above. Her lips part, a silent gasp, as she senses the shift in the grove’s heartbeat. The air around us pulses with life, with magic, with a resonance so profound it stitches itself into our very beings.
My heart races, nerves and hope tangled in roots too deep to be easily freed.
“Clara,” I call her name, hesitant, tender.
She turns to face me, the glow of the moss playing over her soft features. Her smile blooms like the first spring flower, tentative and bright.
Without a word, she steps toward me. Her hand reaches out, and I take it, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine, the faint tremor of uncertainty in her fingers. My pulse quickens asshe draws closer, and her breath hitches, her gaze never leaving mine.
“Thorn,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. Her eyes flicker to my lips, a question hovering between us.
The distance between us narrows, a magnetic pull drawing us together. Time seems to slow, the grove’s magic enveloping us in a cocoon of anticipation.
Our lips meet, soft and unsure, a hesitant promise of more. The kiss deepens as our bodies press closer, her hand gently cupping my cheek. The world around us blurs, and my senses are overwhelmed by the scent of her hair, the warmth of her breath, the taste of her lips. It is a kiss born of longing and deep connection, a recognition of kindred spirits who have found each other in the heart of the forest.
Vines unfurl around us, their tendrils twisting and turning, their blooms glowing with a kaleidoscope of colors. The moss beneath our feet shimmers with an ethereal luminescence, casting a radiant glow that mirrors the emotions swelling within me.
Our embrace is everything I have yearned for and yet, it is more, so much more. As we pull apart, our foreheads touching, the grove seems to sigh in contentment, the air thick with the magic of our bond. The sacred tree above us pulses with a radiant golden light, a beacon of approval in the deepening night.
In this moment, we are one with the grove, with each other, with the magic that binds us.
Here in the glow of the sacred tree, our bodies come together in a dance as old as time. Her soft curves press against me, and there’s no room for hesitation, only want and need. My hands find their way to her hips, mapping the swell and dip of herform as she gasps into my mouth. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, deeper, as if she could meld our very souls.
“Thorn,” she whispers, and I’m lost in the sound of her voice, the way it wraps around my name like a prayer.
We sink to the mossy ground, bathed in the tree’s golden light, and I explore her like I’ve always wanted to. I trail my lips down her neck, learning every inch of her. The curve of her shoulder, the flutter of her pulse beneath my tongue, the way she arches into me when I find the sensitive hollows of her collarbone.
Her breath hitches as my hands slide beneath her shirt, cupping the swell of her breasts, and she lifts her arms to help me pull the garment over her head. The sight of her bare skin, bathed in the warm golden glow of the tree’s magic, is almost overwhelming.
My mouth finds one nipple, and she gasps, her back arching as I swirl my tongue around the hard peak. I press my hands against her sides, anchoring myself.
Her skin is warm and smooth under my hands, and I can’t get enough of the way she responds to my touch. She moans, fingers knotting in my hair as I move lower, trailing kisses down her stomach as I slip to my knees before her. She shivers when I slide her pants and panties down her legs, leaving her bare and vulnerable before me in the sanctity of the grove.
