Page 12 of Witch's Bells and Mistletoe

I’m, therefore, smiling ear to ear when we make our way along the path from the hotel to the smaller one a short distance away. Constructed around the hot springs after the hotel was built, it is a conveniently private little area to enjoy while others enjoy the other spa services that the hotel offers in the main building. The air is cold enough to sting a little with every breath, but it’s fine. Its hard for it not to be when I tucked against Adeon’s side, his heat warming me as much as it possibly can and still allow us to have enough space to be able to walk down the path. He offered to carry me in his arms as we flew, but I stupidly declined with the excuse that I wanted to enjoy the walk with him.

Instead, I’m reluctant for reasons that I know are silly. I know that it’s simply my pride speaking that I don’t want to be laughed at should someone spy him carrying me around. It just isn’t proper for a capable woman of my age. The only time it’s really viewed as acceptable is if you are in your twenties and young enough for it to be cute, or if you genuinely need assistance. That doesn’t mean that a secret part of me isn’t in love with the idea of being tucked in against his chest and carried through the air in a very swoon-worthy fashion. But practical me always has to spoil the fun and insist on keeping my feet firmly on the ground.

My smile falters a little at the thought. I wish I was more like my sweet Fran. She chases her happiness regardless of what opinions may hold. I raised her to be a free spirit—something I always wanted to be. I was groomed from childhood to be dignified and ready for the weight of responsibility that would be mine. There was no time or space for childishness and true frivolity. I was raised with the expectation that my every action and decision would reflect on the coven and impact it.

Perhaps if there hadn’t been that pressure, I wouldn’t now be so afraid to just selfishly take what I want and enjoy it regardless of how it may reflect on me—or more importantly, my coven.

I glance over at Adeon from beneath my lashes. His head is tilted back, seeming to enjoy the brisk air now that the day is cold enough to give us a reprieve from the snow. Of course, he has his own inner furnace of which I’m quite jealous right now. Come July I will be complaining as I die from the heat at home but right now, I would happily welcome it. Adeon never seems to get too hot either, now that I think of it. His temperature seems to always be perfectly regulated, his dragon fire making it easy for him to ignore the summer temperatures and warming him in the coldest of winter days. Only icy rain and snow seem to dampen his enthusiasm.

I swear he doesn’t even notice the cloud of steam that comes from his mouth and nose as he breathes, though it’s plainly obvious to me. It’s far more noticeable than my own tiny burst of frosty breaths, so much so that it halos around him and frosts his beard slightly with the touch of the icy air. It’s quite adorable, and I reach for my phone in my pocket to take a picture when my vision slides over the space just over his shoulder and I catch sight of movement there just off the path.

Adeon comes to a stop as my steps slow. He looks at me curiously and then, noting the direction of my gaze, turns slowly to peer over at the men with saws who appear to be busily clearing out trees. One stands and gives us a cheerful wave when he notices that we are watching him, and in response, Adeon raises a hand in greeting. I give a quick wave as well before tucking my hands beneath my arms to warm them again. The fashionable gloves really weren’t made for warmth.

“Is this area closed off for maintenance?” I call out. I hope not but I’m not sure what to expect when I see so many people working diligently.

“Nah,” the one who waved shouts back. “It was closed a few weeks back for folks’ safety while we cleared out the closest growth, but we’re nearly finished pulling out all the hawthorn.” He dusts snow and sawdust from his hands. “Original owners put it in, but management wants this whole area ready for spring so that the stumps can be cut out and the space developed.”

“A hawthorn grove,” I echo, a sense of unease stirring in my gut.

“Yes, ma’am,” he affirms with a chuckle. “Some superstitious nonsense about it too has kept the larger part of the property overgrown with the stuff until the old broad who owned it passed on and left it to her grandson, Mr. Archie Williams. The whole property is long overdue to be cleared and updated if you ask me. Nothing much has really been changed outside of the hotel itself since it was established by the founder, Arthur Williams, when he came over from England. Kent, I believe. Bunch of other families came over with him and founded the town nearby as well from what I’ve heard.”

At my side Adeon frowns as he eyes the remaining hawthorn with misgivings. “What superstition would that be?” he inquires.

The worker laughs and peers back at the tangle of trees for a moment. “The old lady actually lived here at the hotel in a suite on the top floor like her family all did before her, pouring out milk to satisfy the fairies, as far as we all understand it.”

Suddenly the mistletoe everywhere and the frost fairies in town make complete sense. I bite back a groan, but Adeon has no such compulsion to hide his shock. He stares at the man and then lets out a sharp laugh.

“Let me get this straight—their family has been benefitting from the good fortune brought to them of the good neighbors for generations, and now her grandson is cutting down the very place inhabited by the fairies?”

He gives the landscaper an incredulous look, and the man shrugs.

“Can’t say that I know about any of that. I’m just talking about some local rumors I’ve heard since being hired on here for the last year. I’m not from these parts and can’t say I know anything about fairies, here or otherwise.”

Adeon narrows his eyes at the worker’s glib response, but I can’t blame the man. He isn’t local and was hired to simply carry out a job. It’s the owner of the hotel who’s putting everyone in danger. I snort with irritation. This is why it’s a terrible idea to make agreements with fairies. It’s one thing to be respectful of those who share your space but another thing to establish them on one’s property and benefit from them. It’s clear that the elder Mrs. Williams kept her end of a promise if she was feeding them every morning. If no one has done so since her death and her grandson was now having the hawthorn grove torn down—trees that were notable places for fairies to make their home—then it was no wonder that the locals were hanging mistletoe everywhere to protect themselves.

I wrap my arms tighter around myself and shiver as I cast a speculative look in the direction of the hot springs. Is it even safe to be away from the protection hung so thoroughly around and within the hotel? When I look back, the worker is plodding back out over the trees and the whir of saws starts up again as Adeon takes my elbow and steers me toward the springs. I give him a hesitant look.

“Maybe we should reconsider. If there are angry fairies around…”

Adeon gives me an incredulous look. “Angry fairies may be something for humans to be worried about. I’m a dragon,” he reminds me and then shakes his head. “Whatever torment they may direct at other people here at the hotel, you can rest assured that we will be safe.” He considers for a moment as we draw closer to the building. “Perhaps I should join you in your suite… just to be on the safe side,” he quickly adds.

I bite my lip as I consider his offer. Having him there with me in my room sounds far too intimate. Other than him showing up unexpectedly at my door this morning, he has never be near me when I’ve been my most vulnerable. Hell, I can’t even recall ever actually sharing a room overnight with a lover in the past since I never wished to be that vulnerable with a man unless it was one whom I trusted completely. And such a man had never come around. Even Fran’s father had been a brief affair whose bed I left as soon as we were finished to return to my own. And now Adeon was suggesting that he just share my room with me as if it were nothing?

But given the potential danger, it made sense. I would feel safer with him there regardless of the numerous bunches of mistletoe hung everywhere.

“I will consider it,” I opt for instead of immediately agreeing.

Adeon smiles and nods as he takes my hand in his and draws me to his side. I forget about my anxiousness when we step inside, and the distinct sulfur scent of the springs fills my nose. Although mistletoe isn’t strung over the water around which two large basins have been built in the style like roman baths, I noticed that it is clustered around the doors and that is good enough for me. The building itself is of a simple design with a single long hall that holds the pools. That said, the combination of cedar and stonework adds a pleasant sort of atmosphere that seeps into my marrow, and I’m surprised to see a large metal tripod standing along one wall with hot coals.

The bells jingle with our entrance, and from a door at the far end of the building an attendant enters. Her long brown hair is plaited in six braids of varying thickness that fall down her back. She smiles in greeting as she moves over to the tripod with her buckets, and using a long pair of tongs, she adds fresh coals to the tripod’s shallow bowl. From her other small bucket, she scoops a fragrant mixture and drops it onto the coals, releasing the scent of herbs and frankincense into the air.

There is a line of pegs along the nearest wall and a shoe rack, and we head toward them to remove our things. Feeling slightly awkward, I keep my back to Adeon so that I’m not tempted to glance in his direction at all as I pull my scarf from around my neck and toe off my boots. Setting the boots in their cubby and hanging the scarf on one of the pegs, I tug my gloves off my hands so that I can unzip my coat. The warmth here is so incredible that I don’t feel the least bit chilly when I shrug it off and hang it up, nor when I pull off my slacks and sweater. I feel a prickle that rushes over my skin and suspect that he’s watching me, but I pretend that I am completely unaware of his gaze as I fold my clothes and set them on top of the rack.

I peek over at him as I turn toward the pool in front of me, and heat coils in my belly at the sparks of dragon fire in his eyes as his gaze trails over me. With the crown of horns arching back from his brow, he looks like some sort of primal god as he steps down into the steaming water. My one-piece swimsuit hugs my body so intimately that he can’t miss the way my nipples pebble under the stretchy material. A quiver of excitement runs through me as I step down into the water. Adeon splashes in behind me, the heat of the water rippling as he draws closer to me. I sink into the water, allowing its rejuvenating heat to seep into me. To my frustration, he doesn’t reach for me—he’s just a solid presence lurking behind me in silent invitation.

I turn in the water so that I’m facing him, and my breath catches as I see the flames grow in the depths of his eyes. It sparks something within me. I want nothing more than to climb into his lap as he settles onto the long stone bench built into the side of the pool. Water sluices over his scales as he lowers himself, making them shine like polished rubies in the light. But it’s his tail that appears to stretch out for me beneath the water, the flexible pointed tip curling in a way that sends a tiny curl of arousal through me. Heat crawls through me in echo to the fire flaming within his gaze. It would take so little to surrender everything to him.

But dragons keep what is theirs. Their treasures and everything they value are hidden away within their abodes among their hoards, hidden from the rest of the world.

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