chapter fourty-two
elysia
The fire crackles low, throwing amber light across the snow-covered clearing.
Someone’s propped the iron hearth over the flames, and what’s left of our soup bubbles lazily inside the dented pot.
Steam curls into the cold night air, carrying the faint scent of herbs, smoke, and something vaguely edible.
We’re all gathered on the makeshift logs around it. Tired, full and finally settled enough to breathe.
I turn toward Sirena and Thane, who sit across from me, shoulder to shoulder, hands tangled like they’ve forgotten anyone else exists.
“So… have you two thought about what you actually want for your wedding?”
Sirena brightens instantly. “A little, I want it at night under the stars. Maybe in a garden full of glowing flowers. We haven’t chosen a place yet, but… something beautiful.”
I grin. “Really? And here I thought you’d want to get married in a bakery.”
She gasps, offended for all of two seconds before grabbing a piece of her bread and hurling it at my head. I duck, barely.
“Very funny, Elysia,” she laughs.
“Speaking of baked goods,” Thane adds, leaning down to rummage in his satchel, “I have a surprise for you.”
Sirena’s head snaps around, intrigue brightening her eyes.
Thane pulls out a small square tin; its metal scratched from travel. He pops the lid, revealing three perfectly glazed cinnamon buns nestled inside. The smell alone is enough to make half the squad groan.
“I stole them from the kitchen before we left the Tower,” he says, proud of himself. “They were freshly baked. So, they should stay good for a few days.”
Sirena squeals and throws her arms around him in a tight hug. Placing playful kisses over his face till she’s breathless.
Enzo leans forward, eyes gleaming. “So, hypothetically… if one were to want a bite—”
“No. Not for you.” Sirena’s glare could kill a full-grown ossaryn.
Enzo lifts both hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a guy for trying. I’ll stick to my salty, rubbery meat then.”
That earns a soft round of laughter just as Odette chimes in. “Oh, come on, Enz, it’s not that bad.”
Enzo snorts, tearing off a piece of meat with his teeth. “No,” he says around the chew, “but it’s definitely not a cinnamon bun.”
Sirena leans in, plucks one of the buns from Thane’s tin, and takes an exaggeratedly slow bite. She lets out a dramatic hum of pleasure, eyes fluttering shut.
“Mmm. It really does taste amazing.” She wipes a smear of icing from the corner of her mouth, then tilts her head sweetly. “Do you want some, Enz?”
For a heartbeat, Enzo’s eyes light up with hope, but then he sees the wicked curve of her smirk. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” he grumbles.
Sirena only shrugs. “A lovable one, though.”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” He huffs, taking another bite of dried meat.