Page 62 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Sacrifice? What about me?”

“You’re different. You’re a water nymph—and related to me. You’re welcome anytime.”

Having been denied loving family relationships all her life, Elara felt tears sting her eyes at the blasé welcome. And when Storm hugged her, those tears flowed unrestrained.

“It’s okay, little sister. You’re loved.”

And hers were the hardest words to hear. Mainly because she found them difficult to believe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“What the devil is taking so long?”

Tripp was fit to be tied. It had been over eight hours since Storm had taken Elara into her underwater den, and the wait was killing him. The mini earthquake sent him charging toward the bay, requiring Hermes to restrain him.

“She’s fine,” his cousin had growled. “If you’re that obsessed with the girl, take a hard look at your feelings, why don’t you!”

And with nothing to do but wait, Tripp had. Since the incident, he’d been examining what he felt for her from the first time they’d met in London until now. Considering what he knew of emotions, he’d come to a conclusion.

He loved her.

Perhaps he always had. Her shy glances at his shoulders during their first introduction in Witchmere had sparked his interest, and it had never gone away. Not in over two years. He’d been so busy panicking over those blasted boots that he’d failed to realize he’d fallen deeper than intended this time.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hermes commented from the comfort of his spot in the sand. “What gives?”

“I was doing as you suggested and taking a hard look.”

“Great. And?”

Tripp cast him a wry smile. “It was a good suggestion.”

Hermes grinned and, for once, remained silent.

“How much longer?” Because he was dying to profess his love to her and didn’t feel he could wait another bloody minute.

“They’re bonding. Give them time.”

“Bonding? Who? Elara and Storm?”

“Yes. They’re sisters.”

Tripp scoffed. “It’s a stretch to call water nymphs sisters.”

“No. I mean, they’re truly sisters,” Hermes said. “They share a father, and if you’d shut up for longer than five minutes, I could hear what’s going on.”

Tripp’s jaw dropped. “Hear… What? You can hear them?”

“You could, too, but you haven’t tried.”

“No. I can pinpoint Elara’s location and sense her emotions, but I can’t hear her.”

“Because you haven’t tried,” Hermes reiterated. “It’s all about frequency and maintaining a calm mind.”

“How?”

“Tune into her emotions, leave off your own, and blank your mind. It should be easy since you’re all looks and no brain anyway.”

“Fuck off.”

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