Page 27 of A Kiss of Flame

Barith felt a sting of regret for saying it and disrupting her easy demeanor. “I know. I didn’t mean?—”

She raised her hand from his to stop him, but her face was tense, and the regret stung anew. “When my powers came, I hid them from my mother,” she told him. “I didn’t know I had to release it. That night on the docks...it just happened. Like a bomb.”

He knew enough of the tale. Sirus, their vampire friend, had been the one to save her and several others from the inferno. “You were a child, Vi,” Barith said gently, stroking her side with his thumb. “You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Levian shrugged and blinked away the weight of the emotions she was grappling with. “It’s fine.”

The witch and her companions laughed with one of the fae females who had joined their party, drawing their attention momentarily. It wasn’t fine, and he knew it. He began to apologize again, but she cut him off before he could.

“I went to study The Towers after that,” she told him.

The Towers were the secluded boarding school where all mages were sent once the Wizen Council of Mages’s scouts managed to root them out as youngsters. From what Barith understood of mage magick, as conduits, there was always the risk of catastrophe unless they learned to manage their abilities. If born a mage, there was little choice but to go to The Towers when the wee ones’s powers began to manifest.

Barith knew he should change the subject, but Levian rarely talked about her childhood. Even after all these years of knowing her, much of her past was a mystery to him. He usually didn’t want to press her to talk when she wasn’t keen, but he found himself asking, “Did Council not try to take you before then?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t know what I was. No one did. I hid my magick well for a long time, but—” she gave a little deprecating huff.

“It’s hard to ignore ye when ye set a port aflame,” he finished for her.

Levian cut him a look and rolled her eyes, yet there was no hiding the slight sheepish grin that tugged at the corner of her lips. “Something like that.”

“And your mother returned to the Veil?” he pressed on, emboldened by the ease of their surroundings and her willingness to talk. The Veil of the White Wood was the home of the dryads, or wood fae. It was a sacred place, and only dryads were permitted to enter.

“She did. It was her home. After my father, she deserved some peace.” There was such a weight to her voice it made his heart ache. Barith admired Levian's strength and how she desired her mother’s happiness. He knew her upbringing had been challenging in many regards.

“Why not take you with her?” he wondered aloud. “Ye are half dryad.”

Levian lifted her hand and primped her hair. “She did before Merlin was captured. When he went to The Prison, she wanted me to be connected to my human ancestors—To know my people and not to judge them all like my father. It was noble, but she seemed adrift. She didn’t fit in Merlin’s world without him and definitely didn’t fit in when we were in Obsidian. She is happier at home in the Veil.”

The dusk light was nearly gone now. Crickets chirped louder, and the stars shone brighter above them, but the air remained warm and the water comfortable. Lanterns began to set the hillside in a soft, hazy glow. It was romantic and serene.

Barith took a deep breath of her night jasmine perfume, which settled him. He looked at her face and smiled when she looked skeptically back at him.

“You’re a good woman, Vi,” he said softly.

She blushed, wincing at the compliment. “Don’t try to butter me up. It won’t help you win,” she grumbled.

He lifted a damp hand from the water to gently shove a loose curl into her wrap. “You’re a pain in the arse and a stubborn princess, but you’ve always wanted good for people,” he told her.

Her blush deepened. “I suppose you’re not half bad yourself,” she mumbled.

“What praise,” he snarked.

Levian nudged one of his shoulders, and he wobbled playfully at her touch. They just smiled at each other for a moment, and he sensed that the mage was thinking exactly whathe was—That it was funny that they were talking about this now of all times after all these years.

A pang filled his heart, and Barith brushed his finger along the edge of her jaw. Levian’s breath held, and her gaze lingered on his. It was an impulse that took over him, and before he realized he was leaning toward her—so close that her warm breath brushed over his lips.

Barith’s heart thrummed as he tasted night jasmine on his tongue. Levian tipped her face up, beckoning him closer—filling him with fire.

He wanted to taste her. He wanted to touch her. He wanted?—

“You’re slick,” she breathed into his mouth. “But I won’t fold that easily.”

Chapter Eight

Barith was playing a good game, Levian had to admit. He wanted to win, but she wanted it more.

He grumbled and leaned back from her, his hands still gripping her waist. Levian ran her fingers over the top of his muscled shoulder. “Can you let your wings out underwater?” she asked.

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