The top of his golden hair brushes my chin, smelling so strongly of the sea I love so much. I close my eyes and drink in his scent. Leif always smelled good, but nothing compares to Arlo’s scent. A scent that speaks to me alone, reminding me of my brothers’ laughter as we clink mugs of mead together on the deck, the cry of gulls, cool sea spray damp on my cheeks.
“Are you smelling my hair?”
I snap my head back. “No. Not at all.”
Arlo chuckles. “I hope I smell good.”
“You do,” I say, then look away when he glances up at me. “For a witch. Usually, you lot stink of magic.” When I first met Arlo, he hadn’t had any scent at all. He’d used a spell to mask it. It was only after he’d exhausted his magic and collapsed into my arms that I smelled him for the first time. “Why did you hide your scent when we met?”
Arlo loses his grip on the tie. “It wasn’t personal. I’ve always hidden my scent from wolves.”
“But why?”
“It seemed like the safest thing to do.” The tie tightens slightly around my throat. Arlo gives my chest a pat, smoothing out the material.
“After your ulfhednar friend?”
Arlo’s silence is all the answer I need.
Fury heats my blood. Whoever that bastard is, he hurt Arlo terribly.
“I wanted to avoid shifters at all cost. Hiding my scent seemed the best way to do that.” Arlo doesn’t look at me, voice devoid of emotion as he fiddles with my tie.
The scent of the ocean disappears. My heart drops into my stomach. Arlo’s closed himself off from me. With his blank expression and lack of scent, I’ve got no way of knowing how he truly feels. I can guess, though.
He tenses when I take hold of his wrist. The pulse thumping there beats faster when I drag my thumb over his warm skin. I’m at a loss for words to explain myself. I just needed to touch him.
“I shut others out, too,” I admit, my voice quieter than I intend. “After I lost—well, after.”
Arlo rests his forehead against my chest, his sigh warming my skin through my shirt.
“My brothers. My aunt. Sometimes through the bonds. Other times, I’d put distance between us and disappear for days. It hurt them but they understood why I needed my space. There were times, though, when I wished they’d come after me and ask me what was wrong, how they could help. Thinking on it, I’m not sure I would have opened up to them even if they had. They couldn’t have helped me. I was beyond help. Mayhap I still am.” My throat feels dry. I clear it. It’s been a long while since I felt like talking this much to anyone.
“You’re not,” Arlo says, tugging on my tie so our eyes meet. “Because I’m going to help you.”
Our breaths mingle, the space between us so thin I can catch fruity notes of champagne on his breath. Would his lips taste sweet? When I lean in, our noses brush. “I know, Lo. And you should know that I’m here if you need me. So don’t shut me out.”
Fingers curl in my jacket, pulling me closer until our lips are a breath away. The scent of the sea stings my nose, and a smile lifts my cheeks.
“You this sweet to everyone, or should I feel special?” Arlo brushes his nose against mine.
A chuckle escapes me, and it sounds rusty. I’ve forgotten how good it feels to smile and laugh with someone.
“Don’t let it go to your head, witch.” I close my eyes when he does, already imagining the taste of his mouth against mine.
The door opens. “How are the suits fitting? Oh! Excuse me.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Arlo titters a laugh as he stumbles away from me. “Does the suit fit as good as it looks, darling?”
A sigh expands my chest, forcing a smile at the tailor. “Aye. Much better.”
“So does mine. I think these are the ones!” Arlo declares, following the tailor from the changing room.
I let my hand drop to my side, fingers curling into the space where his hand should have been.
Later that afternoon, renovations begin on the barn where I’ll wed Arlo.
When I arrive to help, Arlo’s family has already gathered at the far end of the grounds.
