They crest a dune, and Arisanna looks hopefully down the other side, only to be greeted by more sand.
“Do you still sense plants?” she asks, and after a few moments, he nods.
“It’s getting stronger.”
“We must be getting closer.”
The twilight lengthens, and the sky grows darker as they plod forward. When she starts limping, he frowns back at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m getting a blister. It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
She takes another step, but he pulls her back. “Sit. Please.”
With a sigh, she lowers herself to the ground, and he only makes a slight face before carefully joining her. He’s determined to interact with the sand as little as possible, it seems.
He gently tugs off her boot, and then he dumps it out. “How did your foot fit in there with all that sand?”
“Not well,” she laughs.
When he reaches for her foot, butterflies fill her at the touch of his hand on her skin.
“I wish the blisters would heal,” he whispers.
To her relief, the puffy red flesh mends itself.
“Thank you.” She gazes into his eyes, but he doesn’t let go of her foot.
He rubs it. Massages it with his strong hands. And her swift intake of air makes him smile.
Stars above. That feels glorious.
“I used to rub my mother’s feet when she needed touch to replenish her life magic,” he says, and Arisanna lies back and stares at the darkening sky. She’ll have sand in her hair, but it doesn’t matter. Not when his touch feels like that.
“Cerian,” she whimpers, and soon he has her other boot off, too.
When he lobs a series of fireballs high overhead, she barely glances at them before closing her eyes again.
Then his hands slide along her legs, and her breath catches.
“What about the plants?” she whispers.
“In a few minutes. I need a little love before we continue our trek through this fates-forsaken place.”
A light laugh escapes her as he crawls along her body until he hovers over her and presses his lips to hers.
He’s all smoke and sparks tonight. Not a trace of berries. She misses his vines wrapping around her.
Her fingers itch to slide along those pointed ears of his, but that might be too much for his fire magic, so she leaves her hands at his sides over his leather shirt.
As he kisses her, he grows slowly warmer, but he’ll pull away before he hurts her. Not even a hint of doubt fills her.
She’s safe with him.
And all too soon, he lets go of their kiss the way she knew he would.
“I got sand in my boots,” he whispers, and she laughs before she can stop herself.
“I’m sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t have kissed me like that.”
