Ember steps past me, closer to the glowing patch of roses.
What.
The.
Fuck.
He’s no longer a gangly, growing teenager.
“…Ember?”
“What?” he asks absently, still focused on the flowers.
I can’t believe I didn’t notice how deep his voice was before. Because it’s deep. Not the theatrical ‘I’m pretending to be older than I am’ deep. It’sgrown mandeep.
My heart does some weird, unhelpful stutter as my eyes roam his shoulders and arms. The thin shirt he threw on this morning pulls across muscles that totally did not exist yesterday. His shoulders are broad, his arms are strong, and his fingers are long and elegant. I guess his body finally caught up to whatever ancient thing has been living behind those eerie yellow eyes.
The thing that is most different, though, is his face. Gone is the awkward, thin face of a growing teenager. In its place is a man in his early twenties. He has a sharp jaw, the beginnings of a beard, and longer hair. It’s thick, falling wild curls to the nape of his neck.
His eyes are still that same ember-gold. Still ancient and filled with his dry humor.
“Why are you staring at me?” he asks, one eyebrow lifting.
“When were you planning to tell me about… this?” I ask slowly, gesturing vaguely at his new body.
He glances down at himself as if he is just now noticing his transformation. His lips twitch, and it’s obvious he’s holding in a laugh. “I assumed you’d notice,” he says mildly.
“I was a little distracted by the glowing magical garden,” I mutter.
So distracted that I didn’t realize that my houseguest just turned into…
Nope. Not finishing that fucking thought.
He watches me, his expression bemused.
“Are you done?” I ask, finally snapping out of whatever trance I was in.
“Done?”
“Growing,” I clarify, waving a hand at him spastically.
“Yes,” he answers.
“And you won’t… combust again anytime soon?” I ask quietly, my stomach dropping for some reason.
“No.”
A strange, sharp little ache settles in my chest because that means he’s leaving. I’ve gotten used to having someone around, and I’m not going to lie, the thought of being alone again is disappointing.
Even if Ember annoys the hell out of me most of the time.
“Thank you,” he says, startling me out of my weird internal spiral.
“For what?”
“For keeping your end of the agreement. We both know that it wasn’t legally binding, but I appreciate you going out of your way for me anyway.”
The garden shifts around us, the flowers softly swaying, their strong scent floating on the breeze. Also on that breeze is the subtle scent of his alpha pheromones. I feel drugged as they flow through me.
