“Treasure hunting?” He chuckles. “That’s unusual. Intriguing. Different.”
“Let me turn the question back at you. If you could do anything, what would you do?”
“Be a good husband and father.”
I can’t control how my eyebrows shoot up. “That’s unusual.”
“Intriguing and different?” he asks. I shrug. He continues, “Only in this day and age. My family’s traditional. I was raised to value different things. Family—first, foremost—I’ve been raised to do my duty to my family. And I will. But what I really want is a mate I can cherish and kits I can spoil rotten.”
I grin at him, enjoying his description. “That sounds lovely.”
“You want a family?” he asks.
I nod. “Some day. I’m not in a hurry. There’s too much to discover first.”
“If your husband took care of the kids and let you treasure hunt?”
I shrug, kicking at the leaves on the path to hear them crunch, thinking of Teddy and her husbands and her precious, precocious kids. That weight thuds in my chest again. Which is ridiculous; I barely know Rhodes.
But for a few moments, like that night we snuggled in front of the fire, I felt we could have more. I felt that flicker of what Teddy’s found with her husbands, with the family they’re building.
What keeps slipping away from me every time I think I have a chance at it.
I flick my fingers over my eyes, wiping away what Lawson has no business seeing. “Yeah, that would be the best of all possible worlds.”
Lawson hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and looks off up the river, into the distance. “Sounds achievable.”
“Seems like it should be, doesn’t it?” I ask lightly.
He swings his gaze back to pierce mine. “You don’t have to do that. Here. Now. With me.”
I let out a long breath. “I was thinking something similar. Sometimes conversations with strangers reveal more hard truths than heart-to-hearts with friends.”
He nods and offers me his hand. I take it and walk beside him up the path along the river.
Chapter29
The Mother’s Kind Eye
LAW
Of all of the nights I’ve spent with my mate, this is one I’ll always cherish.
We talk all night. We walk along the river until her steps begin to drag. I offer her a piggy-back ride back, which she accepts. My mate is a strong, solid woman, but on my back, she’s a feather. She’s so light I amuse myself by tickling the backs of her knees, since her Air magic is clearly supporting her. She swats me and unleashes her beguiling laugh that has me returning to the fires with a tent in my pants.
After more of the marshmallow confections that I will always remember fondly, we find an unoccupied tent. Instead of using it for its intended purpose, we unroll the sleeping bags and lie under them, clothed, facing each other, holding hands. We talk until dawn.
She tells me things I’ve only heard her hint at with Rhodes and her friends. Her unending fascination with magickal artifacts. The physical itch that overtakes her when she goes too long between discoveries. Her terror facing the Shark God who nearly killed her. Her elation every time she recovers some lost piece of history, no matter how small. Her infatuation with my cat form. Her deep love for her friends. The oozing, infected wound she still carries from her sister and boyfriend’s betrayal. The barely-healed scar of the mentor and lover in California who is trying to claim credit for her discovery. Her fear that her discovery won’t be well-received and the barest hint of pride at the prospect that it will.
When the Mother’s kind eye opens on the new season, we climb out of the tent and stand in her rays. The wind that rises from my mate bites at my cheeks and sinks its claws all the way into my bones. Fire rises from my hands and eyes in a pillar as bright as the rising sun. There are many Fire mages standing along the banks of the river. All burn bright. But none as bright as me, standing for the first time in the Mother’s grace with my fated mate.
After we’ve renewed our connection with our Elements, we join the crowd stripping off our clothes and jumping into the Mother’s waters. Kellan shrieks at the cold and I wrap her in my arms to warm her.
She clings to me. Her fae blood knows me. The brilliant blue eyes looking into mine are, for the first time, full of recognition.
Her lips tremble, but not with cold.
“I’m—I’m not free. But I think what I have going on is ending. I—I fucked it up. I?—”