However, the sheepicorn boredly chews on a patch of grass and watches Hercules as if the young lamb has lost its mind.
As the moon rises in the sky, Natalie slides off Stella, and she and Cristina head into the house for a s’mores snack, which Natalie insists Rowe keeps in stock.
“We have them every time I visit,” she says with authority. “I know where she hides the ingredients.”
“Let’s find the goodies, then,” Cristina tells her conspiratorially. “If you can pull them out, I’ll make the sandwiches.”
“But I wanted to play with fire.”
“Um. No.”
As they walk off, I guide Stone toward the pasture. “Time to get acquainted with Stella.”
“I would love nothing more.”
The unicorn watches us quietly as we approach. I’ve met her a few times but have no idea whether she recognizes me. A question that’s quickly answered when she walks over and reaches her nose toward my face.
“Hey, girl.”
Stella breathes deep, and as she exhales, a blanket of calm drops on me. It permeates every nook and cranny of my being, reaching for all the hidden places—those filled with worry, guilt.
It’s like she’s telling me I’m on the path of doing what’s right, and it’s time to release the burden buried deep between my shoulder blades, knotting up the muscles of my body.
Then Stone extends his hand, and the unicorn stretches her neck for him to pet her.
“I’ve met you before,” Stone murmurs as he slides a hand down her nose. He closes his eyes, and for a moment he looks blissfully at peace—and handsome. So handsome, with his sharp, angled features, smooth jawline, gorgeous, thick hair.
His eyes pop open and he regards me. “What?”
“What?”
“Why’re you looking at me like that?”
“I’m not looking at you in any way.”
“Yes, you are. What is it?”
I sigh. “All right. I was just wondering what it would feel like to rub your chin.”
He laughs. “Come and do it. But first, answer a question: What is that feeling I have?”
“Oh, that?” I lean my shoulder on the fence. “I believe that’s the unicorn gift. Stella gives them when you see her. I don’t know if she gives them to everyone, but I’ve heard Rowe say she bestows said gifts of wonder on those she likes. Why? What did you feel?”
“Peace, calm,” he murmurs.
The unicorn raises and drops her head like she’s nodding. “Okay, girl.”
I pet her again, and when I do, I feel something slide up my ankles.
When I look down, flowers are growing from the grass—big, tall yellow-blossomed brown-eyed Susans, one of my favorites. The stemsrise and wind around my ankles, lifting to brush against my knees. An entire field of them.
“You’re glowing,” Stone whispers.
“What?”
He nods to my hands.
My gaze falls on my fingertips, which shine with magic. It’s not the painful blue sparks I’m used to. No. It’s a full-on golden halo of power.
