“Was that on purpose?”
“Almost certainly.”
Beth made a face like she wanted to object but couldn’t quite bring herself to.
Gael watched the path where the vampire and the elf had disappeared, then turned to face Beth fully.
Now that they were alone, the quiet stretched, expectant, like even the forest had noticed. “Elara can’t win,” he said, to break the silence. “But she’s the only one who can give Emma a real challenge.”
Beth gave a light laugh and adjusted her backpack. “You could too.”
He looked at her, then. Really looked. She kept her eyes fixed on the trail, but her aura gave her away, flickering with an awkward and adorable self-consciousness that was impossible to miss.
This wasn’t the guarded Beth from the pub. This was the version she kept tucked away. And he liked her. Gods help him, he really liked all the versions of her.
“You could have, I mean... You don’t have to hang back if you don’t want to,” she added quickly. “I know the trail.”
His lips curled into a smile. “And leave you at the mercy of whatever dark and malicious forest magic is lurking out here? Absolutely not.”
That earned a chuckle, and her energy settled. “I’m pretty sure the worst-case scenario is a bear. But thank you.”
They walked in easy silence for a few minutes, following the path as it twisted between mossy rocks and towering pines. Shafts of sunlight cut through the branches in soft beams, catching on tiny motes of dust and pollen that drifted like spells waiting to be spoken. Somewhere above, a bird chirped once and went silent again.
Gael glanced sideways and refrained from chuckling, but he’d caught the pattern. Beth would square her shoulders, take a breath like she was about to speak, then huff, glance away, and clamp her mouth shut. The emotional rollercoaster wasso palpable it was almost funny. Almost. “You know,” he said gently, “it’s easier if you just spit it out.”
She rolled her eyes. “I hate when you guys do that.”
“Do what?”
“Read us like a grocery list. It’s impossible to hide anything.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Liar.”
That made him laugh, an honest, belly-deep sound. “Fair enough. But come on, holding back isn’t exactly your brand.”
She muttered something, then tilted her head to the treetops, inhaled deep, then let the breath go. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, then raised an eyebrow. “Okay... it is easier.”
He said nothing, giving her space.
“It wasn’t fair to make you pay for my hang-ups,” she continued. “And that’s what I did.”
“I’m not following.”
They rounded a bend where the trail narrowed, edged with ferns and decaying fallen trunks. The scent of damp pine and leaves thickened as the trees pressed in close, the sunlight dimming in patches. The forest was quiet here, listening.
“You see, my father, he is rich. Disgustingly so. And so was his father, and his before that. The first Whitlock started an investment firm in New York in 1875. Every Whitlock after just got more brilliant, more ruthless, and more loaded.”
“Hold on.” He turned to stare at her. “You’re telling me you’re the heiress of the Whitlock financial empire?”
“I’d say I’m the one and only, but I’ve got a cousin. Still, yeah.”
“Do Elara and Aryon know?”
“Of course. I changed my name when I left, so they didn’t know it when they hired me. With time, they gave me everything. Not only a job but also a community, a kind offamily. I told them later, once I realized I could trust them, that I was safe.”
Gael watched her closely, the implication of her words settling in his chest. Her voice was steady, but her aura showed fractures. Not weakness, only wear from being held alone for too long. He felt the quiet sting of it beneath her calm, pain still whispering just under the surface.
