Chapter 21 - Elle
Elle
The morning of our second day at the Thornwood Throne dawned with that same impossible beauty—petals shifting from deep burgundy to violet in the early light, pollen lanterns drifting lazily through the air like sentient fireflies.
I’d barely slept, too aware of Kaelren’s presence in the adjacent chamber, separated only by a wall of living wood.
“You look like hell,” Peeble announced, landing on my shoulder with their usual grace—which is to say, like a small drunk person falling off a barstool.
“Good morning to you, too, asshole.”
“I’m just saying, the dark circles under your eyes are approaching corpse territory. You look like you haven’t slept since we got here—which, judging by the amount of sighing and pacing I heard through the wall last night, is accurate.”
I threw a pillow at them. They dodged with insulting ease.
“Come on,” they said, once they’d finished laughing at my expense. “I found something yesterday you’re going to want to see. Trust me, it’ll distract you from all that unresolved sexual tension radiating through the walls. Kevin and I could barely sleep with all the pining.”
“I’m not pining.”
“Sure. And I’m not devastatingly gorgeous for an insect. We’re both liars, let’s move on.”
I dressed quickly, pulling on the clothes someone had left for me—soft fabrics that felt like wearing clouds, in shades of green and gold that somehow matched my marks exactly.
The Thornwood rebels had been nothing but kind since we’d arrived, but there was still an edge of uncertainty in how they looked at me.
The human. The prophet. The walking apocalypse.
No pressure or anything.
Kaelren was already awake when I emerged, because of course he was. Did the man ever sleep? He stood on the balcony of our shared common area, looking out over the Hollow with that statue-still quality he had when he thought no one was watching.
“Going somewhere?” His voice was carefully neutral.
“Peeble wants to show me something. They won’t tell me what it is but insist I’ll love it.”
“That’s code for ‘I’ve found something potentially dangerous but entertaining,’” Kaelren said, the barest hint of amusement warming his tone.
“Probably.” I hesitated, then added, “Want to come?”
His marks pulsed once, that quick tell I’d learned meant he was surprised. “If you’d like company.”
“I would.” The words came out softer than I’d intended, carrying weight we both felt through the bond.
He turned to face me fully, those silver-shot eyes catching the morning light. “Then I’m yours.”
My breath stuttered. The way he said it—like a vow, like a promise, like something that meant more than just accompanying me on a walk.
“Great! Perfect!” Peeble chirped from my shoulder, sounding far too pleased. “Let’s go, team emotionally-stunted-but-sexually-tense! Adventure awaits! We’re going to need Kevin for this one,” Peeble announced, already making the complicated whistle-buzz combination that summoned his favorite bee.
Kevin arrived moments later, his fuzzy body catching the morning light as he landed on the balcony with surprising grace for something the size of a horse.
“Where exactly are we going?” Kaelren asked, eyeing the bee with his usual wariness.
“You’ll see!” Peeble sang out. “It’s a bit of a flight, but trust me, totally worth it. Kevin, be a gentleman and don’t let them fall to their deaths. It would really ruin the mood I’m going for.”
Kevin buzzed something that might have been agreement or might have been sass—with Kevin, it was hard to tell.
“After you,” Kaelren said, gesturing to Kevin’s back.
I climbed on, and the bee’s fur was just as soft as I remembered—like velvet made of sunshine. A moment later, Kaelren settled behind me, his arms coming around my waist to hold on.
“This feels familiar,” I said, remembering our first flight together.
“Last time you squeaked when we took off,” he murmured against my ear.
“I did not squeak.”
“You absolutely did.”
Kevin’s wings began their thrumming beat, and we lifted into the air.
The Thornwood Throne fell away beneath us as we flew over sections I hadn’t seen—meditation groves where monks tended to plants that hummed with their own songs, armories carved into living trees, libraries with books growing directly from branches.
“How far out are we going?” Kaelren called to Peeble, who was flying alongside us, looking far too pleased with themself.
“Just to the outer gardens! The really old section that nobody maintains anymore! For absolutely no suspicious reasons!”
“That’s not reassuring,” I said.
“Good! Reassurance is overrated!”
We flew for what felt like an hour, the Thornwood Throne’s main structures becoming distant behind us. The forest here was wilder, older, with trees that looked like they predated the Bloom itself.
Kevin began their descent, landing in a small clearing I never would have found on foot. The moment my feet touched the ground, I felt it—that same heavy sweetness in the air, but stronger now.
“Welcome,” Peeble announced with a dramatic flourish of his antennae, “to the Pleasure Grove!”
Of course that’s what it had to be called, because nothing else would fit.
The garden spread before us like something out of a very specific kind of fantasy.
Flowers in shades of pink and gold released visible pollen that drifted through the air like glitter made of want.
Vines thick as my thigh wound through the space, their leaves shimmering with some internal light.
Mushrooms grew in clusters, their caps glowing soft blue-green, and—
“Are those blueberry bushes?” I asked, distracted despite everything else.
“Oh wow, they are!” Peeble said. “Weird, right? Must have been cultivated by someone who crossed to Earth. You know, like your grandma. Who definitely came through here. Frequently. With companions. For reasons I’m sure were very innocent and botanical in nature.”
My face burned. “Peeble.”
“What? I’m just saying, Grandma Jo had excellent taste in gardens. Very… stimulating variety of plants. Educational. Medicinal, even.”
“I’m going to let Kevin eat you.”
“Kevin would never. We’re in love.”
Kaelren had gone very still beside me, and I could feel his awareness through the bond—the same recognition that was dawning on me. The sweet heaviness in the air wasn’t just pleasant; it was doing things. Specific things. Very specific things to very specific parts of my body.
“This is an aphrodisiac garden,” Kaelren said flatly.
“Is it?” Peeble’s voice was the picture of innocence.
“Gosh, how’d we end up here? What an unfortunate accident.
Anyway, I’m going to go now. Very quickly.
To somewhere extremely far away. You two have fun!
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Which, considering I’m a beetle, leaves you a LOT of options! Bye!”
They launched into the air before I could grab them, leaving us standing at the garden’s edge.
Alone.
In a garden full of plants specifically designed to make people want to fuck.
“We should go,” Kaelren said, but he didn’t move.
Neither did I.
Because here’s the thing—I could feel it affecting me, the pollen or the flowers or whatever magical bullshit was in the air.
Heat was pooling low in my belly, my skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending suddenly aware of Kaelren’s proximity.
But I’d wanted him before we walked into this garden.
I’d wanted him since that damn waterfall, since before that if I was honest. The plants weren’t creating desire.
They were just removing my ability to pretend I didn’t feel it.
“What if I don’t want to go?” I heard myself say.
His marks flared, black veins pulsing against his skin. “Elle.”
“We’ve been dancing around this for weeks. Since the monastery. Since that kiss that bent reality.” I turned to face him fully. “I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of being careful. I’m tired of wanting you and not having you.”
“The plants—”
“Aren’t making me lie.” I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. “They’re just making me brave enough to tell the truth.”
His control was cracking; I could see it in the way his hands clenched, in how his breathing had gone shallow. “If we do this—”
“Then we do this.” Another step. “Don’t you remember what you said to me?”
“I think about it constantly.” The admission was rough, dragged from somewhere deep. “Every moment. Every breath. You’re in my head, in my blood, in every thought since I saw you laid bare before me behind the waterfall.”
“Then stop thinking,” I said, reaching up to trace the marks along his jaw, “and just feel.”
He caught my wrist, but not to push me away. His thumb pressed against my pulse, feeling it race. “Elle. Are you certain? Is this what you want, or is it the garden…”
“It’s me.” I met his eyes, let him see the truth there. “It’s been me since the first moment you saw me.”
Something in him shattered. I felt it through the bond—the last wall of his restraint crumbling like crystal under pressure.
His mouth found mine with bruising intensity, one hand tangling in my hair while the other pulled me against him. This wasn’t like any kiss previously. This was need made physical, weeks of tension released all at once.
I gasped against his mouth and he swallowed the sound, walking me backward until my back hit one of the massive bloom-houses that dotted the garden. The petals were soft against my shoulders, glowing faintly at the contact.
“Weeks,” he growled against my throat, his lips tracing the marks at my collarbones. “Weeks of watching you, wanting you, trying to maintain some semblance of control.”
“I don’t want your control.” My hands found the laces of his tunic, fumbling with them. “I want you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at me, and the raw want in his expression made my knees weak. “Once we do this, there’s no going back. You understand that?”
“Good,” I breathed. “I don’t want to go back.”