“Together, then,” I suggested.
For a while, we strolled in companionable silence. Locks of hair tumbled down her body, and a fetching tapestry coat dress hugged her curves, accentuating everything the hooded mantle had once attempted to hide.
As a winged shadow coasted overhead, instinct drove me to act. Absently, I took her hand, then stalled. Aspen did the same but swiftly relaxed her fingers into my own, miniature bolts of lightning charging across my wrists.
On the way, she noticed the basket in my free hand. Thankfully, she made no comment.
We found Nicu sitting at the banquettes, his lanky form hunched over Briar’s note, those folktale irises shimmering as he reread the passage.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, releasing Aspen’s hand and sitting opposite from the young man.
Nicu mused at the letter. “It’s a star.”
A piece of his destiny. Fate, parceling this note to him.
Folding the parchment and tucking it into his suede vest pocket, Nicu beamed across the swaying flames. “I’ve found other stars here too.”
I did my utmost to maintain an unbiased expression while recalling his eyes on Lyrik today. “Such as?”
“The fauna,” he replied. “All the ones of Autumn. And this treehouse castle. It likes me, and I like it back.”
“A limitless bond with nature,” Aspen concluded. “I’m jealous.”
My features melted into a grin. “That bond is a good start. And tell me, are you enjoying yourself? No regrets?”
Yearning pulled across Nicu’s visage. “I miss Papa and Mama. I miss Queen Granny and Tumble. And the clan too. But I’m happy here for now.” Those eyes flared with sudden concern. “Is that okay?”
“You must decide for yourself. But I would say, it’s perfectly fine.”
“I wager you can find joy in more than one place,” Aspen encouraged.
Nicu perked up. “Like Autumn and Spring.”
While she bobbed her head, I inclined mine. “Yes. Like that.”
His teeth flashed into a broad smile, the tips of his canines faintly honed. This feature, I had noticed the day I returned to him. It suited the Royal Son, particularly in this mystical environment.
As he tucked himself under a checkered wool blanket, Lyrik arrived. Not for the first time since this morning, Aspen tossed the rogue an inquisitive glance.
Rifling into the basket I’d brought from the kitchen, I withdrew the stoneware carafe, then extended it to her. Uncertainty plagued me for a quick moment. Had I mixed the ingredients correctly? Too much brown sugar or too little?
Aspen blinked at the offering, then accepted the container. Uncorking the vessel ejected coils of steam. After drawing in the scent, her countenance snapped to mine, astonishment dashing over her features.
Melted chocolate. Cinnamon. Plus, a splash of vanilla.
Lyrik supplied the kitchen well. So much in fact, I’d located milk in a cellar.
I winced under her gaze. “It was vexing to get the cursed stove to maintain a blaze. I’m not sure the temperature was right.”
She said nothing for far too long. The hot chocolate wouldn’t compare to her mother’s recipe, but still. Dammit, I must have blundered the fucking ingredients.
But then Aspen’s eyes softened in comfort. “Thank you.”
The makings of a grin threatened to spill across my face. I grunted to conceal it.
Enthusiastic, Aspen inhaled the chocolate, then strapped her lips over the rim. Her throat pumped, the foliage motifs dancing as she sipped. And fuck, a moan slid off her tongue. The noise produced a simultaneous effect, tingling across my cock and constricting my chest.
“That sounded downright orgasmic,” Lyrik observed while bending forward and flapping his fingers. “Give it here.”
