Page 43 of Point of No Return

Liv has saddled up with Aleks in the little time since we’ve gotten here, and she’s already laughing and smiling at something he’s saying. I make a note to ask more about it later, but the thought is quickly dismissed when I hear someone else approach.

Tyson’s cane is across his lap, and rather than walking, a servant wheels him down the boardwalk in a wheelchair. Something about seeing him rubs me all sorts of wrong. It’s no secret that the Great Dragon’s condition has been serious the past few years, but he only seems to be getting worse.

Time is running out.

“The whole family together,” he croaks. His eyes pass over the group of Aleks’ friends before landing on Liv. “And some,” he nearly sneers, and when I move to take a step in front of her, I feel Skar’s hand at my hip, squeezing as if to tell me,Don’t.

Tyson, satisfied with my reaction, recovers quickly, rolling toward the table opposite me. “This was my wife’s favorite home. Did he tell you that?” Tyson lifts a finger toward Skar whose shoulder brushes mine as he leans down and pops a grape into his mouth.

He doesn’t say anything, but I know from past encounters that Lorelai Benenati is a sore spot. I smile but it’s forced. “Well, I didn’t pinyouas one for boating.”

Tyson hums, the sound caught in his throat. “Have you been out yet?”

“No,” I say, grabbing a plate of pastries and fruit before turning and handing it off to my husband. Without question, he takes it, and I smile as I reach up and brush imaginary crumbs from his mouth with my thumb. “We’ve been busy, haven’t we?”

He kisses my thumb in emphasis, his eyes alight with a question I can’t answer yet:What game are you playing?

I motion toward everyone. “Please. Eat. There’s so much food.”

I’m glad when everyone casually makes their own plates and eats in between bits of conversation and laughter. The parents naturally gather at the table, and I’m glad when Aleks makes the first move toward the water again, diving in.

Liv and I dangle our feet over the dock as we watch the river meander by. I try to ignore the fact that Skar takes the spot beside me, our thighs touching as he eats. Something about it, the touch so casual- so forced- makes me want to move away. But I stay planted.

The sun is hot enough that a layer of sweat already coats my skin when Skar eases into the water. He ducks beneath the surface, his dark hair swept back when he comes back up.

The glacial color of the water is bright in his eyes, and I watch, momentarily mesmerized as his palms find the inside of my knees. I nearly jump as his warm hands inch up my thighs, kneading the muscles as he goes.

At the question clear on my face, his eyes track over to our parents who are no doubt watching us now. His hands continue their assault on my muscles, and heat licks my spine when he massages a sore muscle above my knee. My eyes nearly roll back at how good it feels.

“Get in with me.”

I shake my head, my eyes closing as he draws water over my feet, my ankles, my calves, massaging as he goes. “I’m fine up here.”

“You’re sweating,” he observes, squeezing my knees again with another casual glance at our parents. “Get in,” he splashes me for emphasis, and I hiss, snapped out of whatever daze he put me under.

“You’ll get my hair wet,” my voice is even despite the tremor that floods through me at the thought of being in the water.

Being close enough to dip my feet in, is fine. But beinginit… It’s one of the few things that makes my muscles lock up completely.

If he sees that I’m lying, he doesn’t call me on it. He merely smiles, a small thing. “You and your hair.”

I kick a wave of water at him, and he quickly grins, swimming to join his brother further off. “So you and Aleks,” I start, twisting toward Liv.

“What?” she shrugs, feigning innocence though her laugh gives her away. “Can’t a girl flirt every once in a while?”

“Just as long as you know who you’re flirting with.”

“I’m 27. I’ve probably been out with every eligible bachelor within a hundred miles. Maybe Ishouldstart dating younger.” It’s obvious from her tone that she’s joking, but the idea makes me giggle.

“Maybe don’t start with a Benenati. It can only go downhill from there.”

Her mouth forms an O, and she bumps shoulders with me, eyes floating toward Skar. “Top of the world, huh?”

I roll my eyes at the implication I made, refusing to look in Skar’s direction. “We get along fine.”

It’s an effort to behave around each other most of the time. Being around his father is the only time we really talk or touch each other.

“Fine,” she teases, but when I hear my mother call my name from behind, I cringe.

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