But as the figure moves closer, coming into focus, the smile is overtaken by surprise. My heart leaps into my throat, and I drop the basket of potatoes I’m carrying, letting it fall to the rich dark soil with a heavy thump.
Then my hooves are moving before I can stay them. And the closer I get to the little figure, the harder my heart beats in my chest.
Neither of us gets a word out before I’m taking her by the hips and lifting her up, twirling her around in the tilledpotato field and making her laugh so loud that the crows start up another ruckus. She’s wearing a pack on her back, and her hair is pulled into a messy braid, but a few curls have already escaped, and they frame her freckled cheeks as I set her on her feet and she tips her head back to look at me.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I ask. “Ostara isn’t for another few days.”
Lyra shrugs and tips her head at me. “We’re on break at Coven Crest, so I thought I’d surprise you.” Her smile turns a bit shy. “I hope that’s okay...”
“Okay?” A laugh slips out of me. Then I take her face in my hands and press a kiss to her mouth. It’s been much too long since I last felt her lips on mine, and I linger until I need to draw a breath. When I pull back, I say softly, “It’s more than okay.”
We’ve been writing letters since the day I left the academy; I have a pile of correspondence from Lyra tucked away into the drawer in my nightstand. The conservatory set me up with a small dwelling a short walk away from the grounds, and at night, when I’m feeling alone or am struggling to sleep, I light a candle and read Lyra’s letters, comfort myself with her quips about her classes and jokes about the professors.
But now here she is, in the flesh. I can see her, smell her,feelher.
With a sigh, I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the slight scent of cinnamon that’s clinging to her hair.
Lyra reaches up, and her fingers brush the quartz crystal dangling from a cord around my neck.
“Is this from the fox?” she asks.
I nod. “I hear a crystal gifted is stronger than a crystal bought.”
She smiles. “Who told you a silly thing like that?”
Now it’s my turn to shrug. “Some crazy fire witch I know.”
“Crazy?” she asks, feigning shock. “I’m not the one who finds books onfungifascinating.”
The laughter she draws out of me is true and deep. “Fungiisfascinating. Perhaps I’ll read you a chapter or two.”
“Or perhaps,” she says, reaching up again, this time to run her fingers over my beard, “we can do somethingelsetogether.”
My cheeks flare with heat, and I’m grateful no one else is out here working the field with me.
Lyra smiles at my expense, then pushes up onto her toes, and I bend so she can press a kiss to my cheek.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask her.
“Oh, you know.” She shrugs out of the pack and lets it fall to the dirt, then rolls her shoulders out. “A few days’ worth of clothes, shoes, whatever else I might need.”
A smile threatens to pull on my mouth. “A few days’ worth of clothes?” One of my brows arches up. “So... you’re staying?”
“Of course I am.” Lyra plants her hands on her hips and tips her head at me. Just then, Juniper pops her head out of the pocket of Lyra’s sweater and blinks her glassy eyes at me. “You think I came all this way just to turn back around? Nope. You’re stuck with me. At least until my classes start up again.”
Now the smile is impossible to hold back. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with anyone else. Just her. Lyra Wilder, my little flame.
“Well then”—I pick up her pack and am surprised by its weight—“I suppose we should get you settled in.”
Lyra casts a glance toward my discarded basket of potatoes. “What about your work?”
“Oh, we’ll be back. Did you bring those gloves I bought you?”
Her eyes sparkle in the morning light. “Of course I did.”
“Good. Because we’ve got an acre of potatoes to plant.”
“It’s a good thing they’re fireproof,” she says as she reaches her arms overhead and stretches out her back.
