They made for the bar set up under the trees, a long plank of oak stacked with bottles and kegs. He was halfway there when it hit him.
The scent.
He caught the whiff before he saw her, barely there in the sea of humanity and grass, but it threaded through, quiet and stubborn. Sweet, but not cloying. A hint of honeyed citrus, something green and sun-warmed–the way the forest might smell if it bloomed just for him. It wasn't heavy or overwhelminglike so many others around him. It was subtle, and natural, and good. His head turned instinctively toward it. And then there she was.
Beth.
Standing in line at the bar, her arms folded loosely across her chest, Beth tapped one foot to the rhythm of the music without seeming to realize it. A sheen of sweat clung to her face, her olive complexion already deepened by the sun. Her wavy hair, normally yanked back into a tight, no-nonsense ponytail, was loose tonight, wild and tousled, catching the torchlight in unruly glints.
He let his shields drop all the way down, letting his magic brush her aura. Yeah.
Still beautiful. Still bright. Vibrant yellow, green, and blue tangled together, punching something low and uncompromising in his chest. A pull he’d never had the time or the luxury to examine too closely.
The first time he’d seen her, grief had dulled her colors to brown and grey, as if the world itself had dimmed around her. She’d been working at Aryon and Elara’s pub for nearly a decade now, and they’d crossed path plenty of times. Polite nods, clipped greetings. The small, accidental moments that could have meant nothing. Should have meant nothing. Aryon and Elara never said much about her, so he didn’t even know her story. Not really. Which was a shame because she had struck him from the start, a human refusing to bend under a grief so overwhelming most magiks would’ve crumbled under.
And as her colors came back, he’d realized he liked looking at her. Looking at the way she moved, like she didn’t owe the world a damn thing. He was used to beings who measured their worth in centuries. Ancient, patient. Cold. She was none of those things. She burned with the fierce immediacy of someone who knew time was short and planned to live every second of it. Heliked how her laughter belonged to someone who had fought for it.
And maybe, if he was being honest in a way he didn’t usually allow, maybe part of him had been waiting. Waiting for the grief to ease from her bones. For the colors to come back. Waiting for the girl with the subdue eyes and the unsmiling mouth to become a woman of bright edges and living light. Unable to help, because why would he, he’d waited for her to be better so he could breathe better. Not because he wanted anything from her. He wasn’t that foolish. But she unsettled something in him, deep and slow-moving and that didn’t like being disturbed. And so, he just wanted to know she was okay.
She got her drinks with a smile, walked away without even knowing he was there and he lost sight of her and her scent.
“Really?” Valerian was staring at him, one eyebrow lifted in clear amusement.
Gael snapped his shields back up, cutting off the world so fast it almost made his teeth ache. He followed his twin away from the thickest part of the crowd until they found a quieter patch still filled with people, but where he didn’t have to yell to be heard.
“What?” he asked, already bracing for it.
“Beth?” Val frowned, not judging, just surprised.
“You’re supposed to stay away from my mind and aura.”
“You were loud, my brother. And again. Beth? Nothing wrong with it. I like her. Just didn’t expect that.”
Gael waved the idea off with a snort. “She’s human. Cute, sure. But not enough to tempt me.”
OH, WOW.
Beth froze, glass halfway to her mouth.
She and Ann had found a seat a little apart from the main crowd, where the undergrowth thickened and the edge of the forest began to creep in. Their spot gave them a mostly secluded view of the clearing, tucked just far enough into the trees to be hidden, but still close enough to hear the music, the laughter, and, apparently, conversations that weren’t meant for her. From that half-shadowed vantage point, Beth had spotted Gael and Valerian nearby. She hadn’t spoken much to Gael over the years, just a handful of polite exchanges, but things with Val had always been easier and warmer. And they were Elara and Aryon’s family. Normally, she’d have gone over to say hi.
And then she’d heard him. Muffled by the noise, but unmistakable.
Now, it’s not like she thought she was a supermodel. Brown hair, brown eyes, a bit of an overbite–classic childhood bully bait. She was average even for a human. Definitely nothing special compared to elves or other magiks. After dancing, sweating, and drinking? Yeah. She wasn’t under any illusions about her current state.
But dang it.
That had been harsh, even for one conceited elf. She sat on the grass with Ann, sipping and brooding a little.
“Uh oh. What happened?” Ann asked. All human, her friend had the gift of reading faces like road signs, probably from a life that once involved capital-T Trouble. Beth didn’t know the whole story. Almost a year in, and Ann still kept the edges of her past tucked in neat, but she’d recognized the watchfulness in her eyes, the carefully chosen words. Sweeter and more patient than her, they had become fast friends.
“Just some dumbass, nothing important.” She took another sip of her beer. It didn’t do much to take the sting out of Gael’s words, but whatever. She turned to Ann. “Any chance you can spare a minute from your ten jobs and come over? I’ve got somepruning and weeding, all the fun stuff I keep pushing off, and honestly, I would love the company. We haven’t had a minute in ages.”
“I know, I missed you too. Summer is always crazy... I’ll make it up for you, I promise.” A genuine jack-of-all-trades, Ann was occasional bartender, house cleaner, seasonal worker, dog walker, you name it. Busy didn’t even begin to cover Ann’s daily life. “Hey, that’s Elara waving at us,” Ann said, looking in the crowd and getting up. “Let’s go.”
Beth followed Ann’s and... yeah. Elara, and all the others. Beth got up too, because really, what else was she going to do? She wasn’t about to be a bitch to Elara and Aryon, or to Ann, just because Gael didn’t think she was good enough for a hookup she hadn’t even applied for.
They weaved through the crowd, passed the reeling dancers and torches until they reached the little group of two sets of twins—Elara and Aryon, Gael and Valerian.
