Page 87 of Divine Temptations
I nodded. “Yeah. I want to do a cleansing ritual. Not the big, showy kind. Something simple. Grounded. I just… I need a fresh start.”
“With him,” she said knowingly.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “With Julian. If this thing—whatever it is—has a chance, I want it to be clean. Not tangled up in past mistakes or my fear or his bitterness. Just... water, breath, and beginning again.”
Zephyr’s smile softened into something almost maternal. “That’s real, Jude. That’s the good kind of magic.”
Just then, a low whistle floated across the field. I turned toward the sound instinctively.
There he was.
Julian.
Walking toward us through the tall grass, the golden hour painting every edge of him in honey and fire. He’d changed—had he changed?—into a plain gray t-shirt and dark jeans, casual but somehow devastating. His hair was a little messy from the walk, his face serious but open. There was something tentative about his steps, like he wasn’t sure what he’d find on the other side of this field.
But he came anyway.
My chest tightened. Zephyr let go of my hands and stepped back, giving us space.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
The wolves inside him might’ve been fighting, but one of them had won out—for now.
He was here.
And so was I.
Julian crested the last little rise of the field, tall grasses brushing against his jeans, his eyes catching mine like a hook to the chest.
God, he was beautiful. Even with that guarded expression, even with the tight line of his jaw and the faint furrow between his brows like he was still unsure if this had been a good idea. His gaze flicked to Zephyr, then to the cluster of people around the altar, then back to me.
“Hey,” I whispered, stepping toward him.
“Hey,” he replied, voice quiet. He looked at me like he wanted to say more, like there was a whole monologue behind his eyes, but he couldn’t find the opening line.
Zephyr, of course, said plenty for both of us—without speaking a word. She eyed Julian like a judgmental crow perched on a velvet throne. Not hostile exactly, but very much in do not fuck with my bestie mode. Julian glanced at her, clocked the vibe, and shifted his weight.
“We’re glad you came,” I said, nudging the energy back toward something hospitable. “We’re about to walk to the river.”
“Oh?” Julian asked. “Is this like… a baptism or something?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Zephyr beat me to it.
Her tone was clipped, but not cruel. “Would you please respect where you are, and the surrounding people?”
Julian blinked, caught off guard.
Then she stepped forward, took his hand, and closed her eyes. “Open your heart,” she whispered. “Joy will follow. Eventually.”
I watched Julian’s face soften, just a fraction. He nodded once. Zephyr let go, then turned and started walking without waiting for either of us.
I turned to the group and raised my voice. “Okay, everyone! We’re heading to the river tonight. I want to do a cleansing ritual. Nothing heavy, just… intention, presence, and water. Let’s walk together.”
A few people cheered, someone clapped lazily, and others just gathered up their things. Blankets, wine bottles, a singing bowl. The usual suspects.
Julian fell in beside me on my right, Zephyr on my left, and together we made our way across the field in a slow procession. The air was thick with midsummer warmth, crickets starting to sing their evening song. The golden light made everything feel suspended—like we were walking through honey.
Julian looked over at me. “So is there, like, an actual ceremony or do you just splash river water on our foreheads and call it a day?”
