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“I miss you,” I whispered.
“Marion—”
“I miss you a lot,” I admitted. “I think we’ve both been a little miserable without each other, and I don’t want to regret anything. Not with you. I don’t want to regret not seeing whatthis could be just because we don’t knowwhatcould be. And I know there’s so much to figure out…but I—”
Lorik’s lips were on mine before I could utter another word. And I didn’t care that we were giving the lingering vendors a show and there would be talk in the village tomorrow morning. I wrapped my arms around Lorik’s neck and kissed him back, having missed his taste and the heat of his lips on mine.
I never wanted it to end.
But when it did, he murmured against my lips, “I’m a little in love with you, Marion.”
The words made my chest squeeze, and I couldn’t help the wobbly smile that crossed my face.
“I’m a little in love with you too, Lorik Ravael,” I whispered back.
His lips brushed against mine, soft and sweet and slow. And I thought my heart would burst from my chest in relief and happiness. I felt like I could float high above Rolara with his kiss.
“If that’s the case,” he began, “I have something to ask you.”
“Yes?”
“Would you join me for an Allavari ale at Grimstone’s tonight?”
My laugh was soft, and the wide smile splitting my face actually hurt.
“When you order one, just call it an ale,” I teased. “And yes, I will. But only if you promise to steal a kiss from me in one of the back booths.”
Lorik’s laugh felt like a victory. I hadn’t heard it in so long, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.
“I promise, little witch.”
Epilogue
Two moon cycles later…
“Lorik,” I chided, struggling to conceal my smile when his hands squeezed my backside. “You’re being very distracting.”
“Youare distracting, little witch,” he murmured, pressing his hips against me, his lips brushing against my ear. I could feel the outline of his cock against his loose trews, hard and warm. And I let out a breathy moan when he nibbled on the column of my throat, a frustrated groan meeting my ears.
He squeezed my backside again.
“Later,” he promised.
“Later,” I agreed, stepping away, a little more flushed than I’d been before. “Just a few more riverberries. And maybe some willowroot moss if we can find it.”
“I haven’t seen any willowroot lately,” Lorik commented, watching me as I reached down to pluck a few plump berries off the vines growing close to the river bank. “Last I saw any was tothe north, near the Massadians. I’ll snag some for you if I ever see it again.”
“Thank you,” I commented, reaching out to run my hand down his arm. Warm, hard, and strong beneath my fingertips. A flash of desire speared through me, thinking of our lovemaking that very morning—the driving pound of his hips, his wings giving him momentum, getting him as deep as possible.
I bit my lip.
“Ahh,” Lorik murmured, his eyes narrowing on something in the distance. He began walking, and I trailed behind him after snagging a few more riverberries for the scones I would make tomorrow morning.
“What do you see?”
Lorik, I’d discovered, had much better vision, especially in the Black Veil. Much better senses overall truthfully. He could hear a critter half a mile away scurrying up the trunk of a tree, smell the riverberries when they ripened from my cottage, and see a Shade in the darkness where I could not.
“Star grass. I’ll get some for Peek,” he replied.
