Page 78 of Summertime Hexy
The Grove iscelebrating.
Not just survival.
Butbecoming.
My magic isn’t wild anymore.
It’shome.
CHAPTER 26
DEREK
The world outside is still singing with new life, but all I can see is her. Hazel, glowing from within, magic humming under her skin like a second heartbeat. She turns to me, eyes wide, grinning like the chaotic miracle she is. My heart—well, what used to be my heart before she rewired it with her messy, beautiful existence—squeezes tight.
"So, uh, what now?" she asks, breathless from laughter or magic or justbeing her.
"Now," I say, stepping closer, "we do what we should've done a long time ago."
Her brow quirks. "Start a support group for monsters who are terrible at feelings?"
I laugh, surprised by the sound. Since when do I laugh? Sinceher. "No. This."
I kiss her. Not a tentative, questioning kiss—but the kind that says,You're mine and I'm yours, and the whole Grove can burn for all I care.Hazel's response is immediate. She tangles her hands in my hair, pulling me closer, and I wonder how I ever thought I could deny this.
"Finally," she breathes against my lips.
I growl playfully, lifting her up and spinning her around until she giggles. The sound is a better spell than anything we cast here today.
We end up on the ground, in a circle of wildflowers, laughing and kissing and somehow getting grass stains in all the right places. Clothes are shed like old skins, and for once, neither of us are worried about who might see. The Grove is alive, and it feels like it's cheering us on.
"Slow," I murmur, tracing patterns along her ribcage with rough, unsure fingers.
"Yes," she agrees, looking up at me with eyes that reflect the stars above. "Slow is good. We've got time."
And we do. For the first time in centuries, I feel like I've got all the time in the world. I take my hands—these weapons, these tools of survival—and I use them to worship her. To map every curve, every scar, every freckle. She does the same, her touch both hesitant and hungry, as if she can't believe I'm real.
Her skin is a canvas of moonlight and shadows, and I want to devour every inch of it. I kiss my way down, following a path that's both new and achingly familiar—her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, the soft curve of her belly. She arches into me with a gasp, and I can’t help but grin against her skin.
"Are you laughing at me?" she asks, her voice breathless.
"I'm enjoying you." I press a kiss to each hip bone, feeling the way her muscles tighten beneath my fingers. "Is that allowed?"
She huffs a laugh. "Only if I get to enjoy you back."
"Deal." I stroke my thumbs along her thighs, pushing them further apart, and Hazel’s hands tighten in my hair. Anticipation coils in my stomach, sharp and sweet.
"You're... you're sure?"
"Can I?" she asks, voice a mix of playful teasing and genuine curiosity.
"Can you what?"
"Can I blow you?"
"Oh." The thought alone sends a jolt of electricity through me. I shift my gaze back to hers, fighting to keep my voice even. "Yes. I—God, yes."
"Good," she says, and she tugs me up to meet her lips again. "Because I've been wondering what you taste like."
