Page 27 of Blossoms and Bloodlines
“I am not good at talking to people outside of my job or my family,” he continued. “I hated seeing you with Bryn because he’s dangerous, but also because I know he can be charming even without using his powers, while I’m... not. And then there I was, cutting pears with you.”
Beth huffed. “Youwerecharming. I hated that.”
His smile widened, crooked and genuine. “I know.” Then, softly, he pulled her into his arms.
“I can be that. For you. I want you, Beth, in a way that doesn’t care about rules or roles.” He took a breath like the next part was a sacred oath. “Don’t say anything yet. I know it’s a lot and that you need time. But my understanding is that’s what dating is for.”
Beth blinked up at him, lips twitching despite everything. “How human of you.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No,” she murmured. “You’re not.”
“Good.”
And then he kissed her.
It started hesitant, a question in the shape of his mouth. But she answered—God, did she—and leaned into him, into the heat, the gravity of it all. His lips moved against hers with reverence, like he was trying to memorize the tangibility of wanting her.
Her fingers curled into his shirt. His hand slid to the base of her spine. And when he deepened the kiss, coaxing her open, his tongue brushing hers, her knees went a little weak. Her heart was embarrassingly loud, surely he could hear it, but she didn’t stop.
She didn’t want to. Not now. Not when she finally knew what it felt like to be wanted not for the value of her last name, but for who she was.
Darn it his self-control, he inched away way too early to kiss her forehead and smile at her like he’d just granted him heaven. “You’re temptation in flesh,” he murmured.
She couldn’t help the words. “Not quite enough, as it seems.”
“Neither of us is comfortable with hurried things, and today it’s already been surprise enough.” His lips covered hers in a sweet, full contact. “I don’t want regrets between us.”
“I know, I know. It’s just...” She chuckled a frustrated laugh. “It’s just.”
Again he took her hand and kissed it. “It’s just.”
And they continued along the trail, conversation flowing as easily as the path beneath their feet. There was never a lull–Gael had an endless stream of questions about her life in Mystic Hollow. What she liked about it. Who she spent time with. How her garden got to be the way it was. Apparently, he’d been sneakily gathering Beth Lore from Aryon and Elara for years, and now he casually cross-referenced his secret stash with the real thing. Half-smug, half-curious, he didn’t prod into her past, giving it a respectful berth that let her relax even more.
And when she asked about him and his life in the capital, he never held back.
The sun was high overhead by the time they reached a stream. It wasn’t massive, but it was wide and deep enough to demand caution. Wading through would mean soaking up to the waist and trusting slick rocks. The current wasn’t wild, but it moved fast enough to make you think twice. Water splashed over scattered stones, catching the sunlight in golden flashes. Trees leaned in close on both sides, and the air was thick with the scent of wet earth and moss, tinged with mineral.
Beth frowned, planting her hands on her hips. “Wasn’t there a makeshift bridge here? Like, not a real one, but enough logs piled up that you could kind of walk across?”
Gael surveyed the bank with a quiet hum. “There was. But nature reclaims what she lends. Looks like the river took it back.”
“How did Elara and Emma get across? Did they?”
He crouched, running a hand through the dirt near the waterline. “Yeah. I see their tracks, and I can smell Elara’s scent lingering.”
Beth tilted her head. “Not Emma’s?”
“Vampires are apex predators,” he said easily, like that explained everything. “Having a scent makes you noticeable.”
A giggle slipped out before she could stop it, and Gael glanced at her. “What?”
“It’s dumb.”
“I enjoy dumb things.”
She hesitated, then took a deep breath. “Okay. Could a powerful elf take a vampire in a fight?”
