With that, the maid led me to a room that looked out on the vineyards and far-off pastures. Lights bobbed amongst the vines. At first, I thought it was fireflies, but then I realized it was fairies tending to the blossoms. Trails of light followed them as they zipped through the fields. In the Frozen Isles, it was too cold for such delicate creatures, but I occasionally saw the shy elementals in the forest.
Closing the curtains, I pulled off my clothes and slipped under the covers. With a tired sigh, I tried to get comfortable. Smoke found a spot at my feet and lay down to sleep.
When I closed my eyes, thoughts of Rosalyn danced through my mind. The softness of her skin, the smell of her hair, the magical glimmer of her wings. While there were many beautiful women at home, something about Rosalyn was special.
My mind replayed every interaction with her.
Her wide blue eyes, rosebud lips, and her sweet face. By the Nine Gods, she was so beautiful. She was curvy and enticing in every way. While there were always women like Ingri out there who wanted to push their assets at me, Rosalyn simply existed in her beautiful skin—soft, smooth, and so enticing.
I imagined sliding her dress up to her hips and leaning her back on the counter of her bakery. The mere thought sent a fierce throb of desire through my groin. I could almost taste her on my tongue. The sweet vanilla that perfumed her skin would surely mingle with a deeper, headier flavor that was all her just beneath. She would taste of honey and wild berries, intoxicating and addictive. My hand drifted beneath the sheets as I imagined her soft gasps filling the quiet bakery, the way her fingers wouldgrip my shoulders, her wings fluttering as I kissed her neck, my lips trailing across her collarbone, down to her breasts.
My runes began to glow softly, a faint blue light peeking from beneath the covers. As my fantasy deepened, so did their radiance. Unable to stop myself, I wrapped my fingers around my already hard cock, the sensation drawing a low groan from my throat. My body reacted to thoughts of her with an intensity I’d never experienced before, as if it recognized what my mind refused to accept.
I stroked myself with slow, deliberate movements at first, savoring the building tension. My muscles coiled with need. I envisioned her breasts heaving, her body sweaty and trembling as she held on to me, her delicate pixie wings aflutter behind her. The image of her small body beneath mine, her eyes glazed with desire, her lips parted, made my cock throb painfully in my grip.
“Rosalyn,” I whispered into the darkness, my voice rough with desire.
The runes along my arms pulsed brighter in response to her name, casting undulating blue shadows across the ceiling. My breathing grew ragged as I imagined sliding inside her, feeling her tight heat envelop me inch by inch. She was petite compared to my Rune elf body. The thought of her stretching to accommodate me, of her wetness easing my way, made my hand move faster, grip tighter.
Pleasure boiled within me, building toward release, yet each surge of ecstasy brought with it an equal measure of dread. Each fantasy of her body yielding to mine was both bliss and a frightening truth. The runes knew. My body knew. Only my stubborn mind kept denying what was becoming increasingly clear with each stroke, each labored breath, each pulse of light beneath my skin.
Our runes only lit up for the one we were meant to be with.
Her?
Was it her?
Every nerve ending in my body seemed to come alive, hypersensitive even to the sheets touching my skin. The mere thought of being with Rosalyn sent electric currents racing along my spine. My entire body tightened, my toes curling, back arching, breath catching. I imagined her voice in my ear, her breath warm against my neck, her nails digging into my back as she urged me deeper.
The runes blazed now, so bright I could see them through the sheets, illuminating the room with pulsating azure light. Each throb of my cock was matched by a surge of magic in my veins as if my very life force recognized her.
I pumped my hand faster, desperate now for release, imagining Rosalyn’s legs wrapped around my waist, her core squeezing me. I’d fill her completely, make her mine in every way. The fantasy of her crying out my name as she came undone beneath me finally pushed me over the edge.
My climax hit me with the force of a tidal wave, wrenching a hoarse cry from my throat. My seed spilled hot over my hand as waves of pleasure crashed through me, more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. For those few precious seconds, I forgot about my lies and fears. There was only Rosalyn and this overwhelming need to be with her.
As the pleasure slowly ebbed, I lay panting in the dark, the runes still glowing, though dimmer now. Rosalyn was what I had been missing.
As I lay in the darkness, my heart still racing, the truth became undeniable. The runes recognized what my soul already knew.
But how?
How would this ever work?
She didn’t know who I really was. I had been lying to her all along.
It was then that I knew with certainty that I had to stay away from her.
Being close to Rosalyn was far more dangerous than the lies I was telling. There was a very good chance this infatuation could turn into something more—at least for me. But I had started it with a lie. That was unfair. When she learned that I came with more baggage than a ship… She didn’t deserve that. Or worse, once she found out who I really was, maybe that sweet charm would disappear, and she’d turn calculating. The idea that she might start seeing crowns and coins instead ofmemade me feel sick. I had to stay away from her…if I could.
The sceneat the breakfast table the next morning was both cozy and loud, but not in the same manner of our great hall. Elder Thornberry and his wife laughed heartily, joked loudly, and gossiped scandalously as they passed around bountiful platters of food. Their daughter, Emmalyn—whom I had met in the stables—was far more reserved than the boisterous pair. However, something about her energy reminded me of my sister Asa. Introverted, yes, but I detected a familiar spark of mischievousness behind the quiet smiles.
“My wife never let me hear the end of it,” Elder Thornberry said as he handed me a heaping platter offluffcakes, a fluffy, golden, and delicious breakfast pastry I’d never tried. “When she realized I’d forgotten to invite you for dinner, I thought I was doomed!”
“Oh, yes,” his wife, Petunia, added with a wave of her teacup, the liquid sloshing onto the white tablecloth. “I’m so sorry, Mister Runeson. My husband gets so wrapped up in his businesswith the other elders that he forgets his name. I do hope you didn’t go to bed hungry.”
“Not at all,” I said. “I grabbed a bite from town.”
“Oh, yes. There are many fine establishments in Moonshine Hollow,” Elder Thornberry began, launching into what sounded like an endless list of taverns, restaurants, and cafés.
