Page 40 of The Dark Elf's Found Family
The music flows around us, and I let myself sink into the moment. Into the press of Ciaran's hand at my back, the way his eyes never leave my face, the careful way he holds me like I'm something precious. Other couples blur past in my peripheral vision, but they feel distant, unimportant. There's only this—the music, the man, the magic of a winter night that feels suspended outside of time.
"Mum!"
Rhea's voice cuts through the haze, and I blink back to awareness. She and Nya are rushing toward us, faces flushed with excitement, dragging a laughing Eda between them.
"Can we go with Eda?" Rhea asks, bouncing on her toes. "She said we could help her clean up the bakery and maybe make extra pastries for tomorrow and sleep over!"
My first instinct is to say no. It's late, they're overstimulated, and Nya especially needs her rest. I'm sure Eda does, too, after all the cooking. But then I see the pure joy in both their faces, the way Nya is practically vibrating with excitement despite the late hour. She looks healthier than I've seen her since they arrived, and the thought of cutting short this perfect night makes my chest ache.
"Please, Mum?" Rhea adds, those hazel-green eyes pleading. "Eda said she'd teach us how to make the special Ikuyenda cookies with the sugar flowers."
I glance at Eda, who's trying and failing to hide a knowing smirk. There's something in her expression that makes me think this wasn't entirely the girls' idea, but before I can analyze it too closely, she nods.
"They'll be perfectly safe," she says, her voice warm with genuine affection. "And frankly, I could use the help. These old bones aren't what they used to be."
I look to Ciaran who gives me a shrug and a soft grin. "I'm okay with it if you are."
The girls bounce together, already planning their adventure, and I find myself nodding before I can overthink it. "Alright, but?—"
"We'll be good!" Nya interrupts, throwing her arms around my waist in an impulsive hug that steals my breath. She's been doing that more lately—seeking physical comfort from me like I'm already family. Like she's already mine. Something I'd love if I'm being honest. Having two perfect little girls? Who wouldn't want that?
My heart clenches as I smooth her dark hair, soft and silky under my fingers. When did this little girl become so importantto me? When did the thought of her leaving start to feel like losing a piece of myself?
"I know you will," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Have fun."
Rhea hugs me next, her familiar weight grounding me even as my heart aches strangely at letting them go. It's only for one night, but watching them walk away with Eda, their small hands clasped together, feels like watching my entire world shift on its axis.
"They'll be fine," Ciaran says softly beside me, but there's something in his voice that makes me look up at him sharply.
His expression has changed. The easy joy of moments before has been replaced by something more serious, more intense. Nervous energy radiates from him, and his hands flex at his sides like he's trying to decide what to do with them.
My breath catches in my throat. I know that look. I've seen it in my mirror often enough—the expression of someone gathering courage for something that could change everything.
"Brynn," he says, my name rough on his tongue. "There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
The bottom drops out of my stomach. This is it. The moment I've been dreading and craving in equal measure, the conversation that will either build something beautiful or destroy the fragile happiness we've found.
Fear coils tight in my gut, warring with a desperate hope I'm terrified to acknowledge. Because part of me—the part that's been carefully locked away since Cyprien left—wants this. Wants him to say the words that will make this real, make us real. But the larger part, the part that remembers what it felt like to be abandoned with a child and nothing else, whispers warnings I can't ignore.
What if he changes his mind? What if this is just a winter distraction, something to pass the time before he moves onto wherever poets and writers go next? What if I let him in completely and he realizes I'm not worth staying for?
My hands tremble as I clasp them together, and I force myself to meet his eyes even as my heart hammers against my ribs. The lanterns cast his face in shifting patterns of light and shadow, but I can see the nervousness there, the way his throat works as he swallows hard.
"What is it?" I whisper, though I'm not sure I'm ready for the answer.
22
CIARAN
Itake Brynn's hand, feeling the tremor in her fingers as I lead her away from the dancing couples toward the quieter edge of the square. The lanterns here cast softer pools of light, and the music becomes a distant melody that wraps around us like a gentle embrace. My heart pounds against my ribs as I search for the right words—words I've been rehearsing in my mind for days but that suddenly feel inadequate for everything I need to say.
Her hazel-green eyes search my face, wariness and hope warring in their depths. She's beautiful in the lantern light, her brown skin warm and glowing, a few escaped strands of hair framing her face. The careful walls she's built around herself are still there, but I can see the cracks—places where light has started to seep through, where trust has begun to take root despite her fear.
"I never meant to stay in Eryndral," I begin, my voice rougher than I intended. Her hand tenses in mine, and I tighten my grip, needing her to understand. "When we arrived, it was supposed to be just another stop. A place to rest before moving on to wherever the road took us next."
Her breath catches, and I see the familiar shutters starting to fall behind her eyes. The same look she gets whenever I mention leaving, whenever the future becomes too real to ignore. I've learned to recognize it over these past weeks—the way she pulls back into herself, armoring her heart against the disappointment she's certain is coming.
"But the truth is," I continue quickly, stepping closer, "I've come to love this place. The way Ralric grumbles about everything but always helps when someone's in need. How Old Berren tells the same stories every night by the river, and everyone listens like it's the first time they've heard them. The way Korin looks out for you and Rhea without being asked. How Eda pretends to be stern while spoiling every child who walks into her bakery."
