Article I #3
And then she’d heard him. Muffled by the noise, but unmistakable.
Now, it’s not like she thought she was a supermodel.
Brown hair, brown eyes, a bit of an overbite–classic childhood bully bait.
She was average even for a human. Definitely nothing special compared to elves or other magiks.
After dancing, sweating, and drinking? Yeah.
She wasn’t under any illusions about her current state.
But dang it.
That had been harsh, even for one conceited elf. She sat on the grass with Ann, sipping and brooding a little.
“Uh oh. What happened?” Ann asked. All human, her friend had the gift of reading faces like road signs, probably from a life that once involved capital-T Trouble.
Beth didn’t know the whole story. Almost a year in, and Ann still kept the edges of her past tucked in neat, but she’d recognized the watchfulness in her eyes, the carefully chosen words.
Sweeter and more patient than her, they had become fast friends.
“Just some dumbass, nothing important.” She took another sip of her beer.
It didn’t do much to take the sting out of Gael’s words, but whatever.
She turned to Ann. “Any chance you can spare a minute from your ten jobs and come over? I’ve got some pruning and weeding, all the fun stuff I keep pushing off, and honestly, I would love the company. We haven’t had a minute in ages.”
“I know, I missed you too. Summer is always crazy... I’ll make it up for you, I promise.
” A genuine jack-of-all-trades, Ann was occasional bartender, house cleaner, seasonal worker, dog walker, you name it.
Busy didn’t even begin to cover Ann’s daily life.
“Hey, that’s Elara waving at us,” Ann said, looking in the crowd and getting up. “Let’s go.”
Beth followed Ann’s and... yeah. Elara, and all the others. Beth got up too, because really, what else was she going to do? She wasn’t about to be a bitch to Elara and Aryon, or to Ann, just because Gael didn’t think she was good enough for a hookup she hadn’t even applied for.
They weaved through the crowd, passed the reeling dancers and torches until they reached the little group of two sets of twins—Elara and Aryon, Gael and Valerian.
“This is such a blast,” Elara said when they got close enough to talk. She looked flushed and bright-eyed, but there was a thin edge of fatigue she wasn’t quite hiding.
Beth chuckled, recognizing it immediately. “You guys about to bolt out, aren’t you?”
Aryon gave a sheepish nod. “It’s been a long day,” he said, straightening his posture as he realized he’d been sagging a little under the weight of the moment. “And this is a lot.” He drew in a slow, quiet breath, as if he needed to ground himself but didn’t want to make a big deal about it.
Translation: they had reached their limit.
The energy, the wildness, the unfiltered emotions pouring off the crowd.
It was a lot, even for Beth. She could only imagine what it felt like for the High Lord and Lady.
No matter how well they could shield themselves, something this charged was bound to slip through the cracks.
Beth glanced toward Gael before she could stop herself.
Serious as ever, arms folded across his chest, his face was carved into that permanent not-impressed mask he probably wore even in his sleep.
But there was tension in his jaw tight enough to crack stone.
His shoulders were braced against a storm only he could feel.
And with all that, the elegance, the sheer wrongness of how someone could look that beautiful even when exhausted, was undeniable.
The thought flickered through her mind before she could swat it away, but she gave it a mental snort.
Beautiful, yes. And utterly aggravating.
She looked away, lifting her beer to her lips. She wasn’t about to start feeling sorry for him, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to start noticing things she had no business noticing.
“We’re having a bite at Tansy’s,” Elara said, relief clear in her voice. “We’d love for you to tag along. It’s us, Emma and Rick, maybe Rex.”
“Sure, I’m game,” Ann said easily.
Beth hesitated, her beer now warm in her hand. It was a good group. Tansy, the gnome who ran the Inn and cafe; Emma and Rick, the vampires; maybe Rex, werewolf alpha and local park ranger. Normally, she would’ve jumped at the invite.
But then her gaze slid, by instinct, not choice, to Gael.
He stood a little apart from the others, silver-blond hair impeccably caught in that crown of intricate braids, the torchlights catching on them like threads of light.
The sharp angles of his face, that high, proud structure that was any sculptor’s wet dream.
Unsurprisingly, his mouth was unsmiling.
His eyes, piercing blue kissed by violet, were unreadable, remote as the stars.
He was unreachable. Distant in a way that had nothing to do with space and everything to do with status and walls she couldn’t even see, let alone climb.
And even so, even knowing what he thought of her, Beth still felt the unfair tug of it, the way beauty could gut you when you least wanted it.
He never spoke a word, but she didn’t need him to say anything.
So Beth smiled tightly, lifted her chin. “I think I’m going to call it. It’s nearly dawn anyway.”
“You sure?" Elara asked, a faint crease between her brows. “Tansy said she has cookies ready for us.”
“I hate to miss it, they’re so good,” she said. Then she let her eyes lock onto Gael’s. “And yet,” she added, voice light, “not enough to tempt me.”
For a breath, the corner of Gael’s mouth tightened with the smallest twitch. His chin lifted a fraction, imperious.
Fine by her.
“You guys have fun,” Beth said, stepping back. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
She turned without waiting for an answer, walking away with her shoulders squared, heart hammering, and pride sharp enough to slice. Take that, bitch.