“A little,” she murmured, nestling into his warmth. Her head rested against his shoulder, and she sighed. “I love fall—every season, really. I just wish the flowers would last a little longer.”
Gael was quiet for a breath, then whispered, “Close your eyes.”
She tilted her head up to glance at him.
“Trust me,” he said, brushing a kiss to her temple. “Just for a second.”
So she did. Behind her closed lids, she felt a subtle shift in the air, something not from this world stirring awake. The breeze warmed, scented suddenly with wild lilac and crushed petals. A hum, faint as a heartbeat, pulsed beneath her skin.
“Open up,lïoræn.”
She did.
And gasped.
It wasn’t her garden anymore, not really. The riot of vegetables and herbs, the stubborn lavender, the tangled tomato vines, all of it had vanished, replaced by a sun-drenched meadow that seemed to breathe with life. Wildflowers stretched toward the sky in impossible variety: blooms she recognized from spring hikes, others she’d only seen in books, and some she was fairly certain had never existed outside a dream. They swayed moved by a wind only they could feel.
Butterflies, sapphire, gold, and violet, drifted lazily through the air in arcs of color. The breeze was warmer now, tinged with the scent of summer rain. It brushed her skin like silk.She turned in place, heart pounding, eyes wide. It wasn’t just beautiful, it wasperfect.“It’s an illusion,” she said softly, more to herself than him.
He nodded. “Your garden is still there, beneath it all. I’d never take it from you.”
“It feels real,” she whispered.
“It’s supposed to,” he said gently.
Beth reached out to touch a bloom the color of coral fire, and her fingers met the truth—air that shimmered, not petals. A little gasp escaped her lips. “Why would you do this?” she asked, her voice showing all the wonder she felt for it, for him.
Gael stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “Because you wished the flowers would last longer, and I wanted to give you a moment where they could.”
The yearn in his voice wrapped around her like a dream. There was no clever response on her tongue, no defense she could summon. She turned her face toward his, and when their eyes met again, her breath caught on the edge of a confession she wasn’t ready to name.
So she kissed him instead.
There was no urgency, no heat designed to unravel. Her fingers slid into his hair, tangling in those soft, silvery strands.
He pulled her closer, one hand cradling the curve of her neck, the other at her hip like he was mooring himself to her.
And maybe he was.
Because she kissed him like he was home. And he kissed her like she was sacred.
The garden, the fading light, even the questions still waiting in the corners of her mind drifted away. There was only the thrum of something ancient, the steady certainty that whatever this was, it had already begun long before either of them knewit. Emotion swelled in her chest, hot and overwhelming. “You’re going to ruin me,” she whispered.
“No,” he said, voice low. “I’m going to love you so thoroughly you’ll forget what it feels like to be anything but.”
She pulled him to her, then, to kiss him with the unguarded need that came from a place too deep to name. Her fingers gripped the collar of his shirt as he pulled her flush against him, and the illusion shimmered around them, wildflowers swaying like they could feel it too.
Gael’s hands framed her face, thumbs brushing the corners of her mouth before sliding into her hair. His lips moved against hers like a vow, like a prayer. She opened for him, letting him taste her, and the kiss deepened, sweet and a little desperate.
He guided her gently down to the blanket, lowering her onto the soft cushions as if laying her into a bed of clouds. The air around them pulsed with magic, with hunger, and with the certainty that this was so much more than lust.
Beth’s fingers slid beneath the hem of Gael’s shirt, and he let her pull it off, his body warm and solid as around them, the meadow swayed with impossible life. She shed her sweater next, baring her skin to the heat of his gaze. When his eyes roamed over her, she basked in it, with the garden alive around them and his attention on her like the goddess he’d called her.
“You undo me,” he murmured, voice thick.
She answered with a kiss, deep and unguarded, pulling him into her. He unhooked her bra with sure hands. The fabric fell away, and his mouth replaced it, trailing down her throat, across her collarbone, then lower, until she gave in to him with a breathless sound.
She undressed the rest of the way beneath his touch, the blanket cool beneath her, the illusion blooming wilder around them. Wild blooms bent toward them, and in the distance, faint chiming like wind bells echoed as if the magic itself sighed.
