“The rest are terrible,” I told her, tone serious. “None that you would like.”
She lifted the stash, holding it against her chest as her smile grew in victory. “I have like a whole two-day supply here.”
“Two days?” I barked out a laugh at the forty-nine lollipops she’d claimed. “That should last you at least three days.”
She rolled her eyes at me as she unwrapped a blue one. I held her wrist and guided her hand to my mouth. Without breaking her gaze, I slid the candy between my lips. Sweetness burst onmy tongue, but it was the way her eyes widened that held me captive.
“You thief,” she said, both breathless and amused.
“Me?” I laughed with the candy still in my mouth. “You’re the one who took my whole stash.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she angled her chin up in challenge. “A stash you got for me.”
“Well, I’m not about to start denying the obvious.”
We lingered long after the sun dropped before we hiked back to our camp. Finley licked at the green candy, the third lollipop she’d slipped in her mouth, while her fingers brushed mine with every few steps.
Heaviness started to creep back in, and when I clasped my hand around hers, she held on just as tight.
“I think we should see if Callan can bring Alastor here,” she said, voice low and strained. “If Zaicha is who you think she is, if she was the one to forge the orb and is after my magic, we need him.”
“Yeah.” I pushed the single word out. “You’re right.”
Her eyes flickered to me before she lifted her lollipop, her lips stained in different colors, and tapped it against my arm. “Do you want to taste this one?”
I pressed my lips to hers, stealing a quick kiss and the sugar on her lips. “Mmm, I just did.”
Her laughter followed us the rest of the way back to camp, a marvelous light against the weight we carried.Shining in a world that was threatening to darken.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
FINLEY
“This would goa lot easier if I had my crafting supplies,” Brenton said with a grunt.
“This is fine.” I cradled the small rock I’d named Pebblesworth, admiring the crooked eyes I’d drawn on using colored markers I found in my pack, put there by Everly, according to the small note she’d added—which apparently wasn’t as good as the googly eyes Brenton kept in his inner pocket of magic, but it gave Pebblesworth character.
The tide had come in at some point during the night, leaving the sand Brenton and I sat on cool after it’d receded. A faint salty breeze curled through my hair, carrying with it the cries from several birds overhead. Morning light stretched across the island, soft enough to make me forget, at least for a moment, why my chest still felt heavy.
Or maybe it was Brenton who soothed the torment.
That male. That perfect, maddeningly wonderful male. The one who’d given me forty-nine lollipops just to see me smile. Who let me steal the sheets at night without complaint, although he did a good job of keeping me warm with his strong body wrapped around me. Whose mouth and hands had unraveledme over and over again, until I forgot why we were even on this island.
He was perfect. And he was mine.
Callan had left shortly after breakfast to retrieve Alastor from Vistos, so Brenton suggested this to keep me from spiraling. Arts and crafts.
“It’d be better if I had my hot glue gun.” His gripe held little weight compared to the twinkle brightening his eyes.
I wrinkled my nose. “What’s a hot glue gun? It sounds like a weapon. Did Teddy give you this human contraption?”
Brenton leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a scandalous secret. Which only meant whatever he was about to say was absurd. I couldn’t wait to hear it.
“A weapon of mass crafting,” he whispered, his tone conspiratorial. “Imagine this, Lolli. Melted glue at your command. Anything becomes decorative. Beads, feathers, grass.”
“That sounds terrifying,” I deadpanned although my lips curved into a smile. “Is this the kind of battle you’ve been training for all these years?”
