“You’re sure Sakura said they were going to the dressmaker?” I ask, eyeing Wyll.
“I swear she did!”
“I don’t get why she’d tellyouand not me.” Caleb's annoyed voice adds.
Wyll shrugs, “What can I say, man? I’ve got a certainje ne sais quoiwith the ladies.” Before I can roll my eyes, his voice changes. “Look, there’s Lyna. Holy shit!That’sa dress,” he whistles.
We all stop.
Through the boutique’s wide-paned windows, she stands. And I forget how to breathe. Vi’s cherry-red hair spills as molten silk around her shoulders, curls catching the last of the dying sunbeam. Even through the imperfect glass, I can see it. How the gown wraps around her body. Fire and satin, glowing with an inner heat—Perfection.
Obviously, the moment the girls realize we’re here, it turns into a whole hush-hush, ‘no, you can’t come in’situation, so the plan shifts. We’re all meeting at The Silver Fang, which they agree to without missing a beat. Clearly, they’ve already got a head start on drinking. Avilyna almost forgets she’s mad at me,cheeks flushed, only her head peeking out from behind Vanessa, her guard dog.
An hour later, they finally join us in the shadowy back corner of the tavern, where we’ve claimed a table. Sakura wastes no time flagging down a server, rattling off what I can only assume is half the menu. Nalaka drops into the seat beside Caleb, while Vanessa slides in across from us, closer to Wyll. Finally, Avilyna follows behind and reaches for a chair, until my arms wrap around her waist, pulling her back to me.
The surprise on her face lingers. Her wide eyes and frozen features catch the light just right, beautiful. She ends up on my lap, exactly where she belongs. A soft squeak escapes her lips, and the sound sends a jolt through me, hunger tightening low in my gut. By the way her hips shift against me and the shallow breath Vi takes, I know I’m not the only one feeling this.
Nuzzling her neck, I draw in a breath so deep it feels as if I’m drowning in her scent. Sweet, intoxicating, more potent than my favourite fire whiskey, but this… This is a feeling I could never get tired of. The rich blend of vanilla, pistachio, and a whisper of spice wraps around me, each note burning into my senses; it owns me completely.
“You smell delicious,” I growl into her ear, playfully nibbling at the skin with my fangs, leaving goosebumps along her neck. The loud music coming from the troubadours covers my words, so only she can hear what I’m saying. But honestly, I don’t care who hears or sees us. If it were only my choice, I would be bending her over this table, showing everyone who she belongs to. Except that at the same time, the idea of others seeing every hidden secret of what’s mine envelops me with a white fury.
Fucking confusing.
Without realizing it, my grip on her has tightened. I ease it slightly, giving her room to move, and the shift catches herattention. She glances back at me, green eyes meeting mine, and just like that, her beautiful smile crumbles into horror.
“What happened to you?” Avilyna tries to stand, but I hold her in place.
“It’s not a big deal,” I give her a lopsided smirk. “Just let the guys get a few punches in during training. Figured I’d share the fun.” Skepticism laces her expression; she doesn't believe a word of what I’m saying, smart girl. But this is not the place nor the time to be glum. I don't want to taint the night with the actions of a miserable lowlife. I’m saved from any further interrogation by Sakura’s arrival. A basket of warm bread in her hands, she plops herself on the chair where Avilyna was planning to sit.
“Aw, thank you for keeping me a seat, Lyna! You want some bread?”
The irony is delightful, and I can’t help but let a chuckle rock my chest as Vi throws a frown my way before leaning forward to grab a bun, giving me a perfect view of her round ass. She is still dressed in gears, but the stretchy black material leaves nothing to the imagination, which is a blessing and a curse. Leaning backward, I put my hands on her hips, aligning her perfectly like a puzzle piece. Vanessa punches me in the arm, but I’m not the least bit ashamed and ignore her.
A halfling strides out from the kitchen, his arms laden with steaming platters. Behind him trails two dryads, their movements as fluid and graceful as wind through high branches. Each one seemed sculpted from the Elveron forest itself. Skin like polished bark gleams under the lantern light. One pale and silvered as birch, the other deep as mahogany. Their hair flows in leafy waves, shifting in colour with the seasons. One wears a crown of amber and crimson leaves, while the other's locks bloom with tiny violet flowers that release faint floral scents as she moves.
Barefoot, they walk between tables in silence, the wooden floorboards never creaking under their steps. Vines curl gently around their arms, adorned with glowing berries or blossom buds that pulse with soft light, illuminating trays of exotic dishes as starlight on still water, and their eyes glow faintly silver or gold depending on their mood.
Wherever they pass, the noise of the tavern softens, as if nature itself is pausing to listen. One dryad approaches the round table, her smile gentle as she sets down a tray brimming with Kallahan specialties: glossy fire-nut fruits still crackling with heat, tender roots swirled with sugared flower petals, and thick slabs of wild boar ribs, glazed with fermented blossom honey.
“For the soldiers,” she says in a voice travelling as autumn wind. “Strength for your muscles and sweetness for your hearts.”
If there's one universal language, it’s good food. Vanessa and Vi share the same amazed look, eyeing the steaming meat and roasted vegetables as if they haven't eaten for days. Wyll and Sakura aren’t doing much better, already piling their plates, too busy digging in to wait for anyone else. There’s this rare kind of peace in the air, like the world’s holding its breath just long enough to let us have this. And sitting here, hearing their laughter fills up the parts of me I didn’t even know were empty.
The table’s a mess with dirty plates, scattered crumbs, and a graveyard of a feast. We’re full enough that it actually sobers us a little. Wyll doesn’t waste any time; he grabs Vanessa’s hand and pulls her out onto the dance floor. Never figured her for the type to go all-in with the public twirls and slow spins, but hell, she doesn’t even blink. Wraps her arms around his neck as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. One by one, the rest of the crew peels off, leaving just me and Avilyna. She’s still settled on my lap, warm and soft, belonging there. Then she shifts, starts to slide off. I stop her with a hand on her waist, not ready to let go.
“There's no reason for me to stay sitting on you,” she says with a roll of her eyes, but a small, pleased smile dances at the corner of her lips.
“Mmm, see that’s where I disagree because I know plenty of reasons why that's where you belong.” My words are rewarded with a scoff.
“Give me one,” her voice dances with a playful lilt as she glances back at me. Vi’s wild curls frame her beautiful face, eyes glassy from the alcohol or maybe happiness. Hopeful thinking wishes it’s because of me, but I can't really tell, and honestly, it doesn't matter. Because if that girl turned to me tomorrow and asked me to march into war, I'd follow her. No questions asked, straight into the depths of Netherworld, just to bring back whatever her heart desires.
“First, because I said so. And second… Because you’re mine.” I don’t break our gaze as the words leave my mouth, truths not just spoken, but a fact, immutable as law. Shock widens her gaze before she tilts her head back, laughing, offering me an unguarded view of her delicate neck. The urge to trail kisses along her skin is nearly unbearable.
I’ve always known magic was real. It’s a certainty, like the need for breath or water. But only now do I truly understand what true enchantment feels like. And as that realization takes hold, I feel the corners of my mouth tug upward in an unfamiliar act.
A genuine smile.
An action becoming more and more… natural.
