Page 130 of Curse the Fae

Juniper straightens, her spruce-green eyes vivid in the shadows. “You’ve always been the one who sees the best in all people, no matter who they are. If he’s worth it, then be stubborn. Choose who deserves you, who matches you, not who makes sense.”

“A few questions,” Lark adds. “How’s the fucking?”

My face suffuses with warmth. “It’s…it’s….”

Deep and dark and dangerous. That’s how it is.

“Uh-huh.” She gives me a saucy look. “Based on the sight of his bare ass and other certain parts, I can guess. Lots of muscle there. But can you talk to each other?”

“About anything.”

“Do you laugh?”

“In our own way.”

“Do you understand one another?”

“Every time.”

“Does he make you feel safe?”

“Yes.”

“Are you still enemies?”

“No.”

Lark gestures, as if the rest speaks for itself, while Juniper concludes, “Then what’s the problem?”

In the cast of lantern light, I take in my sisters’ faces. Their features are stronger, happier. All the while, that same bond we’ve shared since childhood is still there, as if we’ve never left home. I snatch them and crush us together, our trio exchanging embraces and kisses.

“Hot damn.” Lark appraises Cerulean, who’s speaking in Faeish with his brothers, the draft tousling his blue-black hair. “Don’t think I’ll be sleeping just yet.”

“To this day, your smutty train of thought astounds me,” Juniper says.

“Whatever. Based on your radiant complexion lately, I’d say you have no right to judge. I know about the kinks of a satyr, and I know what you two were doing right before Cerulean and I stopped at your cabin on the way here. It took forever for anyone to answer the door, and you were both dewy and breathless. Not to mention, Puck was wearing low-slung breeches and grinning like an asshole, and your blouse was on backward, and your reading spectacles were askew. What was he doing to you this time?”

Juniper’s face bloats with crimson as she peeks at the satyr, who tosses her a devoted and rather wicked smirk. “It’s always new,” she confides in wonder. “How many ways can one possibly have sex?”

“A lot more in Faerie,” Lark declares.

We chuckle, then sober quickly as Juniper frets, “It’s wrong to think this way, with everything in ruins.”

I give her a consoling smile and wind my arm around her shoulders. “Lovemaking in a time of strife isn’t something to feel guilty about. We’re alive, and why not express our gratitude for that? Take Cerulean and Puck into your arms. Relish every second with them. Loving is living, and isn’t that what we’re fighting for?”

Juniper pulls me into a hug. Lark joins in, and we stay like that for a while, soaking in one another’s presence.

Moments later, Cerulean is airborne with Lark, who’s already toying with his loose shirt. Puck’s tone smolders as he mutters something in my sister’s ear that causes her breath to hitch, and he leads her to one of the remaining boats.

Then they’re gone, leaving me and Elixir behind. In the quiet darkness, I feel his sideways glance like a thrust of water—powerful and penetrating. We’re alone, standing on opposite ends of the walkway.

As the river licks the banks, we turn to face each other.

35

The distance seems short, yet it stretches before me like a chasm, as if I’ll never reach him quick enough, soon enough. I’d heard my sisters’ words loud and clear, but I need to hear his. I need to know what he’s thinking and if it’s the same thing floating through me. But he’s never been a creature of many words, so I settle for the expression on his face.

Elixir gazes at me through panels of long, black hair. He stares as if having found shelter, a tranquil port in which to dwell, to anchor himself. Those burnished irises punch through the dark, striking true and swift. They swarm me like golden pools, seeping into my veins. It’s a newfound sensation, but already it rocks me to the core.

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