Page 39 of Magic in My Bones

Night-blooming jasmine released its intoxicating scent wherever we passed, as if the plants themselves were conspiring to make this moment more magical. The protective wards around the garden were visible tonight, woven in delicate strands of silver light that formed elaborate Celtic knots between the trees. They reminded me of my grandmother's garden back in Ireland, where the Fair Folk would sometimes leave similar patterns woven in morning dew.

A chorus of ghost moths fluttered around us, their spectral wings casting no shadows despite their luminescence. Their presence was considered a blessing in necromantic traditions since they were spirits of transformation and renewal, drawn to moments of profound change.

As we strolled along the winding cobblestone walkway, the tension in Ren's shoulders began to ease. He took a deep breath,savoring the crisp autumn air. “It's beautiful out here,” he murmured, his gaze drifting over the vibrant foliage.

“Indeed,” I agreed, my own eyes drawn to the delicate moonflowers that bloomed along the path. “There's a certain magic to this place, a sense of tranquility that soothes the soul. Even if I do prefer the Ossuary Memorial Garden to this one.”

As we rounded a bend, a mesmerizing sight greeted us: a shimmering pond, its surface like black glass reflecting the luminous moon above. Floating lanterns drifted lazily across the water, each one containing a gently flickering spirit light. The effect was breathtaking, as if the stars themselves had descended to dance upon the mirrored surface.

Ren's sleeve brushed against mine as we walked, each accidental touch sending sparks of awareness through me. I found myself hyper-aware of his proximity, of the graceful way he moved, of how the moonlight silvered his hair and made his skin look like porcelain. When he spoke about the spirits, his voice soft with wonder, I had to resist the urge to pull him closer, to learn if his lips tasted as sweet as the words that fell from them.

The space between us seemed charged with possibility, like the air before a lightning strike. Each step brought us closer together, as if we were being drawn by some invisible force neither of us wanted to resist.

“Wow,” Ren breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. “There are so many spirits here, and we’re nowhere near the necropolis.”

I smiled, gently guiding Ren toward a carved stone bench beside the pond. “The spirits are drawn to places of beauty and tranquility,” I explained, my voice soft with reverence. “They find solace in the gentle embrace of nature, just as we mortals do.”

As we settled onto the bench, our thighs brushing, I found myself captivated by the way the moonlight played across Ren'sfeatures. It danced in his dark hair, casting a halo of silver around his head, and sparkled in his eyes like stars. The space between us felt charged, alive with possibility. My hand, resting on the stone beside us, itched to reach out, to bridge the gap between us.

Instead, I gently brushed a strand of Ren’s dark hair from his forehead, letting my fingers trail softly along his skin before cupping his face. My fingers traced the edge of his mask, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath. Our magic surged at the contact, death magic recognizing death magic in the most primal way. The sensation was heady, intoxicating, like drinking starlight, like touching lightning. His breath hitched as my thumb brushed his lower lip, the simple touch sending sparks of magic dancing between us.

“Dorian,” he breathed, my name a prayer on his lips. His magic reached for mine, shy but eager, like moonflowers opening to the night. Where our power met, it created something entirely new. Not just the silver threads of necromancy, but gold too, warm and bright as sunrise.

I could feel his pulse racing beneath my palm, could see the way his pupils dilated behind his mask. The air between us grew thick with magic and wanting. When he swayed closer, drawn by the magnetic pull between us, I caught the scent of old books and autumn leaves and something uniquely Ren that made my head spin.

The protective runes in his coat began to glow, responding to our mingled magic. They traced patterns across his skin in threads of light, making him look otherworldly, breathtaking. I wanted to trace each one with my fingers, to learn the map of him by touch, to discover every place where magic marked him as mine.

His warmth spread beneath my touch, his pulse quickening under my fingertips. His eyes closed for a fleeting moment,a shiver passing through him. Slowly, I tipped his chin up, bringing his gaze to mine.

“Ren…” I whispered, my voice soft. “May I kiss you?”

He held my gaze for a heartbeat longer, and I felt his breath hitch. The space between us grew impossibly small, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words. His lips parted slightly, his chest rising with a soft, nervous breath before he spoke, his voice low and trembling.

“Yes,” Ren whispered, the word barely audible, but it was enough.

I leaned in, and just before our lips met, the world seemed to fall away—the gardens, the distant music, the murmurs of the revelers inside. All that remained was the warmth of Ren’s breath against my skin, the gentle pressure of his lips when they finally touched mine.

15

Uncharted Territory

Ren

My heart hammered inmy chest, an erratic beat that seemed to echo in my ears as Dorian’s lips met mine. It was soft, tentative, like he was waiting for me to catch up. The warmth of his mouth against mine felt like nothing I had ever imagined. So gentle, yet it sent a shock of electricity through me.

Our magic surged together. Silver threads of necromantic power wove around us, and the nearby spirit lights dimmed to a dreamy glow, as if giving us privacy. Even the protective runes in my emerald coat seemed to hum in response, their golden threads dancing with Dorian's silver magic in a way that felt ancient and right.

Every nerve ending seemed to come alive at once. My skin felt hypersensitive, tingling wherever he touched me. Heat bloomed in my chest and spread outward like wildfire, making my fingers tremble where they gripped his coat. My whole body felt like it was waking up, discovering sensations I'd never known were possible.

When his thumb brushed my jaw, guiding me closer, my knees went weak. I was grateful for his other hand steady at my waist, anchoring me as the world seemed to spin. Each brush of his lips sent sparks dancing down my spine, and I found myself arching into his touch without meaning to, seeking more of that intoxicating connection.

I had never kissed anyone before. I had read about it, heard others talk about it, but this was real, and it wasDorian. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to match his rhythm, unsure but eager, every nerve in my body alight. The kiss was so different from everything I’d ever known. His thumb brushed over my cheek, and I realized I was holding my breath, afraid that if I exhaled too hard, I might shatter the moment.

I was dizzy with sensation, overwhelmed by the rush of feelings that came with this first taste of intimacy. I kissed him back, trembling just slightly. For a moment, I let myself lean into him, savoring the simple, pure closeness of it, the way everything in the world felt as if it had fallen into place, just like this.

And for once, the awkwardness, the uncertainty, everything I’d carried with me for so long, felt like it didn’t matter. It was just Dorian and me here, and for the first time, I felt like I could just beRen, with no barriers between us.

But as the kiss lingered, a flicker of doubt crept in, an unbidden guest at this perfect moment. I pulled back slightly, my lips still tingling from Dorian's touch. His green eyes met mine, warm and inviting, but I couldn't quite shake the nagging anxiety.

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