Moonheart stomped impatiently from where he was tied to the post, not as excited to have the children darting around him and tugging on his tail. The poor creature had been quite shaken after the noglida, but hadn’t quite lost that look of fear ever since Brela had used her shade affinity to get them all back to Averlyn safely.
Farrah had felt the same way the first time Brela had used it with her. To become dust and shadow—to have consciousness but no body—was something she might never get used to, even if she’d been given shadow magic. Still, it was a fast way to travel. Freeing, even, especially after those horrifying events.
They had survived, though. All of them, by some miracle.
Not by a miracle, by Brela. She deserved all the love in the world, all the thanks.
That woman… she’d given up so much by revealing her magic to Cason, and that bastard had said such cruel things back. That was about the time she’d gripped Elias and Serill by the backs of their shirts and dragged them away from the private conversation.
How was the captain so stupid to not see what he’d done? What Brela had given up to save his pathetic ass? He didn’t deserve her. He wouldneverbe good enough for her.
Farrah wouldn’t mind giving that man a few more scars as repayment.
She and Elias had agreed that they’d do something big for Brela when she got home. She was getting her freedom, after all, and that was enough of a reason to celebrate. A feast, plenty of wine, and a night to honor their savior. Their lover. Their friend and family.
Elias, somehow no longer weighed down by children, scooped Farrah off the steps with a graceful swipe of his arms.
“El!” Farrah gasped, squirming in his grip as he clutched her to his chest. “No, put me down!”
“Never again, love,” he purred, spinning her around.
He slowed enough for her to lean back in his arms and clutch his face. His beautiful, beautiful face and sparkling emerald eyes. She could only smile.
“What?” he asked, brows pinching slightly.
“This moment. The fact that we canhavethis moment.”
Elias smiled wider, then his hand snaked up to the back of her head and he softly pulled her into his kiss. Fingers weaving gently through her hair, he held her in a sweet embrace.
“Ew!” some of the children sniggered.
“El and Miss Farrah arekiiissing!” Jyva giggled.
They laughed, breaking their kiss to glare at the kids.
Elias didn’t set her on the ground, though. “And El is going to keep kissing Miss Farrah, you little busybodies.” He only proved his point by peppering her jaw and neck with more kisses.
Some of the boys voiced their disgust while the girls squealed in delight.
Farrah laughed and finally pressed her hand over Elias’s mouth to stop him. “Children, I think Madame Bele would appreciate a little help in the kitchen… or would you rather clean your rooms?”
“Kitchen!” they all shouted, breaking into sprints toward the doors. Elbows and shouts continued to ring, arguing over who would clean and who would help finish cooking dinner.
Elias nipped her fingers, then kissed her again when she removed her hand. “Hmm, where were we?”
Her cheeks flushed as one of his hands trailed down her spine. “El.”
“What?” he whispered against her neck.
“We are still outside.”
“Yes, but we are alive, thanks to you.”
Farrah stilled in his arms. “Brela did most of the work.”
“Yes, Brela did Brela things, but she wouldn’t have had anything to save if it weren’t for you,” he replied, setting her feet on the ground. “Did you forget that you fought off your own share of noglida while I was unconscious?”
“Yes, but—“
