“They were hard to miss.” Damn, he was gorgeous when the wind rustled his dark hair and his eyes gleaming brighter than the stars in the sky. It would be easy to lose myself in this man, but I couldn't.
“Do you want to go first, or should I lead?” he asked.
In this dance? Him. I jerked my chin up to show he should go ahead of me.
“Always start here.” He pointed to a stone sticking out at his chest level. “Left hand on that one and put your right foot on this one.” He waved to it and took the first steps.
I followed behind him until I could crawl up onto the steep roof, the slate tiles digging into my knees as I made my way up to sit beside him on the roof.
Our thighs and arms brushed, but it felt like friendship, so I didn't make myself move away. I liked how his warmth enfolded me, how he shot me a look that told me he was proud that I'd done this.
“How many times have you come here?” I asked softly, not wanting to stab the night with my voice.
“More than I can count. From the time I was small.”
“I bet your parents loved that.”
“I don't believe they ever knew.”
“Does Merrick?”
He shrugged. “It's not something I chat about with him, but I bet he does.”
“Then he hasn't joined you here.”
“This isn’t his thing. It's solely mine.”
And mine if only borrowed. I wasn't sure what I thought about him sharing this special place with me, but I decided now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Instead, I looked around, taking in the stars and the moon overhead, the way the canopy of dark, shadowy leaves rustled below us. The rare cry of a night bird.
“Each time I come here, it feels new and fresh,” he said, equally soft. “It's pretty, yes, but profound. Sometimes, I just sit here, stunned by the way the moon casts a silvery glow over everything, other times savoring the whip of a storm roaring in from the sea. The moon transforms everything it touches into a shimmering dream.”
“I can almost see it.”
“I want you to see it all.”
“As you do?”
“As we both can. Let me show you.” He leaned close and pointed up, tracing the sky with his fingertip. “The Wyrm, the Dryad, and the Lycanthrope. See the patterns in the stars? They're whispering their secrets.”
So was he—or his voice was. I'd learned how to raise my mental guards from Tempest, and I could swear they remained strong enough to take on any challenge, even Lore's. Which meant he wasn't lulling me. But why would anyone bother to lull someone into listening while they talked about the stars?
“They’re three of the fiercest beings in mythology. Legends say they fought, clashing until one devoured the others, leaving behind their essence to protect the dawn.”
“Why did they fight?”
“Some say for power.” His voice was as smooth as the night itself.
“Controlling it, I assume.”
“Others say they fought over a love who belonged to none of them, though they each believed it did. Stories in the sky often spin into our lives. The battles, the sacrifices, and the betrayals.”
“One betrayed the others?”
“Isn't that always the way?”
“Not for everyone.” Though one of my friends had.
“In our world, they do.”
