Page 269 of The Dryad Storm

Iris’s heart lurches toward Sylvan, her fire magic warming every vein as her falcon takes flight once more and Sylvan drops down before her, branch horns rising from his pine hair, his piercing eyes intent.

Those beautiful pine eyes of his.

“Your kindred,” Iris marvels, entranced by him. “It’s...beautiful.” Her vulnerability rises, fear swamping her emotions as she looks away, overcome by intimidation. She pulls in a deep breath, draws on her fire to fuel her courage... and meets his eyes.

“I... I thought...” Iris starts, tripping over the words as the Xishlon moon coaxes her every feeling for Sylvan to the surface, “I thought that maybe... there’s a chance that a Lasair might be welcome as a permanent addition to your fire-loving Forest.” Her pulse beats hot against the sides of her neck as he studies her, his rooted steadiness such a contrast to her often out-of-control flame, her intense passion, which she has so much trouble keeping hold of.

“It’s notmyForest, Dryad’khin,” he offers, his deep voice thrumming right down Iris’s spine. “It’sourForest.” A slight, amused smile tilts his green lips. “And the Forest isn’t the only fire-loving thing here.”

Heat shoots straight down Iris’s spine.

“I want you as my Xishlon’vir,” she blurts out with a quick glance toward the purple moon above, this moon that’s throwing her heart as well as every tendril of her firewide open.

An emotional look overtakes Sylvan’s expression before his lips slant upward once more and he takes a step toward her, his hands moving lightly to her waist, her magic flaring around that touch. “You’ve a mind for melding traditions tonight it seems,” he says, serious now, “as do I.”

Iris nods, remorse coursing through her for briefly losing her way. Only to be shown a better path forward by the Forest. And by her blossoming love for Sylvan. A path that embraces diversity and love, the Forest itself expanding the circle of Dryad’khin.

“I feel like you truly see me,” Iris says, the words flowing off her tongue, every heartfelt thing eased into existence by the moonlight. “Even though... even though you’re Dryad and I’m Lasair.”

Sylvan reaches up and threads his fingers through her hair, an almost pained look on his severe face that sends Iris’s heart into a faster rhythm. “We were wrong to fight this,” he murmurs as she reaches up to place her hand over his heart. Sylvan’sbreath hitches as he gives her a deeply besotted look and draws her closer, his scent such a deep, rich pine. “This entire Forest,” he murmurs as he caresses her back, “is fueled by fire. Which means you would be amost welcomepermanent addition to it.”

Tears mist Iris’s eyes, the subtext in his words clear, his touch and his love singeing away every barrier between them.

“I want you, Sylvan,” Iris admits.

Sylvan gives her an impassioned look, the surge of Iris’s fire echoing his intensity because she knows the two of them have found something in each other strong as wildfire. Strong as the surrounding Zhilaan Forest.

Strong as the Xishlon moon above.

“I want you too,” Sylvan says, his warm lips brushing her temple. “Let’s meld all the traditions this eve, my beautiful Lasair-Dryad’khin.”

And then he draws back slightly, reaches out to run his fingertips along the stamens of a moon-blooming Xishlon Lily twined around the nearest trunk, its petals glowing violet along with the pollen now gracing Sylvan’s fingertips.

He brings his fingertips to her skin, and Iris shivers as he traces a line of the pollen down the side of her neck, over her inner shoulder, then down her bare lower arms.

“What are you doing?” she breathlessly asks.

“Showing you the Forest,” he says before bringing his lips to hers.

Iris ignites against his impassioned kiss, heated tendrils of pleasure coursing over her skin where he traced the pollen, entrancingly flame-hot.

“What was that?” she breathlessly stammers.

Sylvan smiles. “Fire pollen,” he answers, voice low and husky with want. “It holds the Forest’s fire-embrace in it.”

Iris gapes at him, stunned. “What else can this Forest do?”

Sylvan’s smile turns sultry. “Oh, so much more.”

Iris can’t suppress her own besotted smile as she grips Sylvan’s leafy tunic and pulls him into another fiery and thoroughly claiming kiss, the two of them surrendering themselves without reservation to the moonlight. As Sylvan draws her down to the mossy Forest floor and reveals the full, Xishlon-fueled wonders of the Zhilaan Forest’s embracing love.

Chapter Five

Xishlon Light

Wrenfir Harrow

Voloi

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