Page 5 of Blossoms and Bloodlines
“This is such a blast,” Elara said when they got close enough to talk. She looked flushed and bright-eyed, but there was a thin edge of fatigue she wasn’t quite hiding.
Beth chuckled, recognizing it immediately. “You guys about to bolt out, aren’t you?”
Aryon gave a sheepish nod. “It’s been a long day,” he said, straightening his posture as he realized he’d been sagging a little under the weight of the moment. “And this is a lot.” He drew in a slow, quiet breath, as if he needed to ground himself but didn’t want to make a big deal about it.
Translation: they had reached their limit. The energy, the wildness, the unfiltered emotions pouring off the crowd. It was a lot, even for Beth. She could only imagine what it felt like for the High Lord and Lady. No matter how well they could shield themselves, something this charged was bound to slip through the cracks.
Beth glanced toward Gael before she could stop herself.
Serious as ever, arms folded across his chest, his face was carved into that permanentnot-impressedmask he probably wore even in his sleep. But there was tension in his jaw tight enough to crack stone. His shoulders were braced against a storm only he could feel. And with all that, the elegance, the sheer wrongness of how someone could look that beautiful even when exhausted, was undeniable. The thought flickered through her mind before she could swat it away, but she gave it a mental snort.
Beautiful, yes. And utterly aggravating.
She looked away, lifting her beer to her lips. She wasn’t about to start feeling sorry for him, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to start noticing things she had no business noticing.
“We’re having a bite at Tansy’s,” Elara said, relief clear in her voice. “We’d love for you to tag along. It’s us, Emma and Rick, maybe Rex.”
“Sure, I’m game,” Ann said easily.
Beth hesitated, her beer now warm in her hand. It was a good group. Tansy, the gnome who ran the Inn and cafe; Emma and Rick, the vampires; maybe Rex, werewolf alpha and local park ranger. Normally, she would’ve jumped at the invite.
But then her gaze slid, by instinct, not choice, to Gael.
He stood a little apart from the others, silver-blond hair impeccably caught in that crown of intricate braids, the torchlights catching on them like threads of light. The sharp angles of his face, that high, proud structure that was any sculptor’s wet dream. Unsurprisingly, his mouth was unsmiling. His eyes, piercing blue kissed by violet, were unreadable, remote as the stars. He was unreachable. Distant in a way that had nothing to do with space and everything to do with status and walls she couldn’t even see, let alone climb.
And even so, even knowing what he thought of her, Beth still felt the unfair tug of it, the way beauty could gut you when you least wanted it.
He never spoke a word, but she didn’t need him to say anything.
So Beth smiled tightly, lifted her chin. “I think I’m going to call it. It’s nearly dawn anyway.”
“You sure?" Elara asked, a faint crease between her brows. “Tansy said she has cookies ready for us.”
“I hate to miss it, they’re so good,” she said. Then she let her eyes lock onto Gael’s. “And yet,” she added, voice light, “not enough to tempt me.”
For a breath, the corner of Gael’s mouth tightened with the smallest twitch. His chin lifted a fraction, imperious.
Fine by her.
“You guys have fun,” Beth said, stepping back. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
She turned without waiting for an answer, walking away with her shoulders squared, heart hammering, and pride sharp enough to slice.Take that, bitch.
Chapter 2
THE HOLLOW’S PUB WASa welcome pool of calm after the buzz and posturing of the Fae meeting that morning.
The afternoon sun had gone heavy and golden outside, stretching the shadows across the town square when Gael pushed open the door and walked with Aryon inside. The light was softer, caught in the old wood and low beams. Smells of baking bread and simmering stew filled the space with the solid weight of home, but the room was quiet, conversation a low hum beneath the early-summer stillness that lingered over Mystic Hollow. If a few regulars looked up and nodded, no one approached. Here, titles were understood, but didn’t need fanfare.
“Today was... interesting,” Gael said as they crossed to the bar. “I’d never thought the fairies would want to come out into society as a group.”
Aryon nodded, already stepping behind the counter and reaching for mugs. “Iced Tea? Beer?”
“Tea, please,” Gael said. The town as a whole might have needed a day to recover from the Litha celebrations, but elves had an exceptional resistance to alcohol. His choice was for taste, not detox.
Aryon poured the tea, setting the glass down with a delicatethunk. “I think seeing the Oreads thriving under Jade’s leadership got them thinking,” he said. “The fairies aren’t as resilient, though. We’ll have to make sure it’s safe for them before we open too many doors.”
Gael slid into one of the tables near the window, the battered wood still warm from the sunlight and wrapped his handsaround the glass, letting the chill seep into his fingers as Aryon joined him.
