“But I don’t want your happiness to depend upon mine,” Caelian countered, a line of concern creasing across her forehead. “I want you to find something that brings you joy.”
“I already have.” He flashed her a wink.
“Something other than me,” she added with an air of playfulness. “If we were to stay in Wenfyre, I know I could bide my time granting wishes. I would learn a skill, maybe weaving flower crowns or perhaps crafting something useful to sell at the market. But what would you do? I don’t want you to fall into the same predicament in Aeramere, where you felt useless and unfulfilled, like you had no purpose.”
Kjeld’s heart warmed at her sentiment. They continued to dance, and he drew their joined hands closer to his chest, his thumb gently stroking the inside of her palm. “My purpose is here, Caelian. You are here. The dragons are here. My soul feels at rest here. Besides, maybe it will do me some good to learnthe way of the Druids. To become more in tune with the natural world.”
“So,” she ventured cautiously, “you wish to stay in Wenfyre?”
“I want to be wherever you are.”
“Kjeld.” Her reprimand was pointed, and there was a layer of demand in her tone.
“Yes, Starweaver.” He lifted her by the waist, spinning her around before lowering her back to the ground. “I want to stay in Wenfyre.”
Caelian threw her arms around his neck, and he twirled them into a more secluded area of the Myrkwild, where the trees shrouded them away from prying eyes, and the winking stars sprinkled them in a wash of silver light. The revelry of the Wildsong Gathering ebbed, fading into a melodious thrum pulsing through the warm night air. Fireflies glowed and dimmed, flickering to life like tiny golden orbs, creating their own kind of magic.
She sighed into him, stretching the length of her lush body against him, and the corner of his mouth hooked into a smile. “I take it the effects of the bloomfire wine have not yet worn off?”
“Not in the least.” Caelian dragged her lips across his, her tongue sliding out to taste his scar. “I’m just exceptionally good at ignoring it.”
Kjeld had to commend her. She’d done rather well at maintaining some semblance of normalcy throughout most of their conversation. Though now that it was at a lull, the bloomfire seemed to be more intense than before. Or maybe those one or two glasses were finally catching up to her.
He would need to distract her a little longer. “I have something for you.”
“Do you?” Mischief twinkled in her eyes, and she dragged her fingers down the length of his bare torso. “What is it?”
Kjeld reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bundle. “A gift.”
Her lips lifted and she bounced on her toes while he unfolded the soft packaging.
The moment Caelian caught sight of the ring, her breathing hitched. Her gaze bounced back and forth between the ring and Kjeld’s face, pure elation warring with shock and overwhelm.
“I made it from rosewood because of its high shine, and I thought you’d be pleased with the coloring.” He slid it onto her ring finger, and it was a perfect fit. “And opals because they remind me of starlight, and that always reminds me of you.”
Kjeld brushed his thumb across her knuckles, admiring the way the ring looked on her hand. Like it belonged. “What do you think?”
Caelian thrust her hand out in front of her, then wiggled her fingers, her eyes dancing each time opals reflected the glint of moonlight. “I think it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. And I love it even more because you made itforme.”
He captured her hand and looped it through the crook of his elbow. “Good. Then come with me, because I have one more thing to show you.”
She canted her head to one side, peering up at him as he led her through the Myrkwild back toward the Caelora Bay. “Two gifts in one night? And what have I done to earn such wonderful treasures?”
“Exist.”
The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Kjeld…” She stumbled to a stop alongside him, and he turned to her, capturing her face with his hands.
“You exist, Caelian. It’s the only reason I ever need for anything.” He kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Your very being is enough for me.”
He guided her a little further northwest, to where Sylvan had shown him the hollow homes. While some of the Druids lived in smaller tree houses, much like the giant one of the Eldergrove, many lived in burrow-type cottages built into the earth. Some were large and tunneled, others were barely more than a bedroom in size, much like the hut he’d built in the woods surrounding House Celestine. But he’d chosen this particular hollow home because of its proximity to the bay for Caelian, and due to the fact that it was carved into one of the only cliffs in Wenfyre, it could accommodate the greatness of Kjeld’s size.
They climbed the sloping shoreline and stopped before a door painted a lovely shade of teal.
“Here we are.” He opened the door to allow her entry first.
Caelian’s brows pushed together in confusion and then lifted in understanding. Lashes fluttering back, her eyes flicked to his and held. “Is this?—”
