Page 89 of Bewitched By the Djinn
Not yet.
Because I know the second I do, the illusion will shatter. We’ll be back in Aetheria, fugitives sneaking through foreign woods, hunted by giants and goddess knows what else.
But here, in this flickering space between dreams and daylight, I can pretend.
Pretend I’m not scared out of my mind. Pretend I’m not starting to want things I have no right to want.
His breath stirs the hair at the nape of my neck. Slow. Steady.
Helen stands. “Morning.”
I move away from Bennet and stretch, rolling my shoulders and trying to shake off the fog in my head. Bennet stirs behind me but doesn’t wake.
“We should move soon.” She disappears behind some trees, presumably to take care of morning business.
I turn back to Bennet. I don’t want to wake him. He’s so peaceful in sleep. But Helen’s right. It’s best not to linger.
As if he can hear my thoughts, his eyes blink open. “Hey.” His smile is sleepy.
My heart jerks in my chest at the warmth in his face. I lean over and brush my lips against the expression, wanting to hold on to it.
I draw back but his hands come up, locking me in place, deepening the kiss.
“Okay, lovebirds. Let’s get going.”
We break apart.
After a quick breakfast of granola bars and dried fruit, we continue our trek.
The morning sun filters through the dense canopy, casting fractured beams across the forest floor. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and moss, every breath heavy and green. Our footsteps crunch on the loamy path, and distant animal calls echo through the trees.
My muscles ache from the relentless hiking and a night on the unforgiving ground, but I push on, falling into step behind Bennet and Helen.
I should be focusing on the path ahead, the mission, the dangers, but instead I keep replaying his voice from the other night, low and breathless in my ear.
And goddess help me, I want it again.
I’d convinced myself this thing between us couldn’t be real. That it had to be the magic, proximity, shared trauma, anything but actual affection. But I’m not sure I can pretend anymore.
Maybe he’s worth it. Worth the fear, the risk, the uncertainty.
Worth giving up everything I know.
And then reality slaps me in the face. I have the kids. And Mimi. Like I can just pack up my life and move to a magical kingdom in another dimension.
Sure, Jan.
We walk on, and on, and then something shifts. The air thickens, presses in. A prickling sensation crawls up the back of my neck. My shoulders tighten. It’s like walking through invisible static, every nerve on high alert.
I stop in my tracks. Please, no more giants.
Pressure builds between my shoulder blades.
I drop the shield around my mind like a curtain falling, reaching instinctively.Bennet?
He halts and then whips around, leaping toward me.
A blast of heat sears past my shoulder and I instinctively flinch away.
