Page 11 of Serpent & Saviors

to Winter’s snowy embrace.

Seated on the fox,

with eyes that shine no more,

Sits the last of us,

completing the carousel’s circle of four.

Her freckled face filled—

with misery and such sorrow.

I want to whisper,

to just hold on until tomorrow.

Today, I hope she’s living her life unrestrained.

Wild and carefree and completely untamed.

You see, seasons come, and seasons go,

Weaving the fabric of time,

And no matter the distance, they’re forever intertwined.

As I finished the final line, my voice broke, an echo of the emotion I was feeling. The microphone seemed to capture the last breath of my words, holding them in an embrace of sorts before releasing them to the crowd. I paused and looked at Andrew.

My heart pounded in my chest as the crowd applauded. A sense of relief washed over me. The emcee approached and took the microphone with a respectful nod, and I took my seat. The nervousness was still there, but there was also a sense of accomplishment and pride.

For you, Mischa.

I sent a silent dedication to the little mouse. Wherever she was, I hoped she was living her best life. Andrew’s eyes met mine with a heat that set me aflame. He pulled me close, his arm draped around me.

The warmth of his touch was electric, and I was hyper-aware of his presence, of the comforting steadiness of his breathing next to me. I nestled into him, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest.

The scent of his cologne, the pressure of his body near mine. I stole a glance at him. The startling desire in his eyes made the moment incredibly intimate.

“I know I shouldn’t, but damn, I need this,” he whispered before slipping his hand into my hair, holding my head in place.

My body shook as fire raced through my blood at his words alone. His lips brushed against mine, soft and sweet. I sighed, relaxing into him and losing myself in the sensation.

The softness of his lips and the way his hand gently pulled at the strands had me shivering. An inexplicable sense of euphoria pulsed as he continued kissing me. And man, could he kiss. It was passionate—powerful. And it consumed me.

All the pent-up emotions I’d held in all these years flowed into this one moment. I traced his cheekbones and the immaculate line of his beard. At my touch, he pulled back. His control slipped for a brief second, and he looked like he wanted to devour me.

With his forehead touching mine, he kissed me chastely once more on the lips. Lost in a sea of sensations, I briefly wondered if I was dreaming. Maybe I was under the bed at the house, stuck in a fantasy. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Then his lips found mine again, and his hands tangled in my hair. This time he pulled hard, and a growl crawled up his throat as he deepened the kiss. No, this was real. I moaned into his mouth, surrendering. Someone cleared their throat, and I wanted to scream because it instantly snapped Andrew from wherever he had been.

“We should probably get back to the hotel,” he said, lowering his eyes to my lips.

“Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

He watched me with those intense, thoughtful eyes. I loved that there was no malice in them. He stood and helped me to my feet, his hand protective as he wrapped an arm around me.

Was it wrong that I felt like we shared a secret? He pressed his hand firmly against the small of my back and guided me from the teahouse.