When they broke apart, she murmured against his lips, “It’s very hard to keep in mind that I like to take things slow when you kiss me. Or, you know, when you exist in any physical capacity near me.”
He chuckled, and then, adorably, kissed the tip of her nose. “Isn’t waiting for pleasure a pleasure itself?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe for an elf. We lowly humans call it frustration.”
His smile thinned by a flicker of something underneath. His voice stayed level, but there was weight behind it. “Don’t call your people that. Please.”
The shift made her blink at first. But then she understood it wasn’t about her, but aboutthem. His people and the judgment he lived with. The centuries spent sitting at the top of the magical hierarchy seared into every glance and every unspoken rule. Centuries that had taught his kind they were not just different, but better. And words like hers, even meant as a joke, sounded like an agreement, like acceptance of that rot. “I was joking,” she said, softer now.
“I know.” He looked away for a beat, then back at her. “But for too many magiks, it’s the truth.”
Beth rose on her toes, cupped his face in both hands, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. “I’m sorry. And thank you for being who you are.”
Gael nodded and swept her into his arms, effortlessly, like lifting a leaf. And yet as he moved toward the river’s edge, his grip tightened. Not crushing, but strong enough to remind her she was in the arms of someone strong enough to carry her. Maybe even the world, if he had to. “You look very sure about this.”
“I would never put you in danger.”
That was the thing about Gael, she thought on a sigh. Now that their truths were out, there was almost nothing he could say that didn’t make her either melt or want to drag him into the woods and ruin him. So, she tucked herself closer, kissed the corner of his jaw, and enjoyed the moment.
On a wink, Gael began hopping from stone to stone across the stream in a series of graceful bounds that made the entire act look deceptively effortless.
And comfortable. She hadn’t imagined being carried like this could feel so good. Her legs dangled, the world tilting just enough to remind her she wasn’t in control, but she didn’t mind. With every step, his body adjusted, his muscles flexed to counter the slick, half-submerged rocks beneath them. Instinctively, she leaned into him, and her reward? A kiss to the forehead as the wind whipped cold across her cheeks, laced with the scent of river stone and rushing water.
When they reached the far bank, he didn’t set her down, and she made no move to pull away. “Thank you for the lift,” she murmured.
“It was entirely my pleasure.” He dipped his head and kissed her, deeper this time, his tongue stroking her lips open and sending a shiver down her spine. How could he taste this good? Succulent and rich, making her want to eat him whole. “I couldhave moved you with telekinesis,” he murmured on her lips. “But why would I pass a reason to touch you?”
Breathless, she smiled. “Why, indeed.”
“I can carry you all the way to the girls if you’d like.”
“Tempting,” she said, finally sliding down from his arms. “But I’ll walk.”
They laced fingers as they started up the trail again.
“I just don’t want to be loud about this,” she added quietly.
Gael’s brow knit, a flicker of concern behind his eyes. “You realize Elara and Emma will know regardless?”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
His expression shifted, something very close to sadness slipping in beneath the schooled easiness. “Do you have any problem with them knowing?”
“No, no,” she said quickly. “It’s not that. Just... loud and in-your-face isn’t really my style.”
“It’s not mine either,” he agreed, brushing his lips across her knuckles.
It took a little over an hour to reach the lake, and what a spectacle it was, once they finally reached it. The lake came into view like a turquoise hiding in the trees’ gold and rust colors. On its grassy bank, Elara and Emma sat with their bare feet skimming the surface of the water.
They heard them walking in, obviously. And when they turned toward the couple, Elara squinted suspiciously while Emma sniffed the air like a bloodhound. Beth didn’t let go of Gael’s hand. She wouldn’t have even if she thought they didn’t know because every minute they spent together, she felt him closer to her soul, and so what would be the point?
Elara stretched out her legs and gave Beth a slow once-over. “Your aura is strictly adults-only right now.” She pivoted toward Gael. “And you’re more shielded than the CIA. You even locked your aura, which is both impressive and very telling.”
Emma, lounging beneath a wide-brimmed hat, chimed in. “I’m not even going to describe what I’m smelling. It’d make a lesser vampire blush.”
Beth opened her mouth, ready for a clever retort, but Gael didn’t give her the chance. He pulled her into a smooth and slow dip, fit for a scene from an old movie. She grabbed his arm, startled, but before she could question it, his lips claimed hers again.
When he pulled her upright, she blinked at him, stunned. “I thought you weren’t an in-your-face kind of elf.”
