26
Finn
My mate does not notice right away when I walk into the room.
She’s entirely engrossed in her work, bent over a simmering cauldron.
Her hair is tied up in a knot on top of her head, with soft tendrils springing free to kiss the nape of her neck.
Perched on her nose is the most fetching little pair of half-moon glasses that make her eyes look even larger and more luminous as she focuses on the prepared stellarin blossoms that she adds to her brew.
In addition to the sweet smell of the stellarin essence, her magick sparkles in the air. Rich and metallic, wending its way through the room as she works.
It’s a slightly different sensation than the all-consuming waves of it that emanate from her when she’s healing someone directly, but the stands of her power already feel familiar.
Too familiar, probably.
Too much my own fancy, imagining what it would be like to have her and her magick beside me for the rest of my life.
I must make some sort of sound, or perhaps she can sense my magick just as I can sense hers—more fanciful, ridiculous thinking—because she pauses her work and glances up.
She peers at me over the top of her glasses, looking for a moment so serious and stern that it makes my spine snap straighter. It makes me want to stand at attention and wait for her orders, to do as I’m told if it’ll please her.
A smile breaks over her face, and the effect is softened somewhat, but the impulse lingers.
I’d do anything my witch told me to do.
Distracting thoughts, those.
Too distracting, and my mind runs away from me, scheming how I might convince her to order me about, to demand exactly what she wants from me, anything that will please her.
“What?” she asks, straightening and pushing the glasses up over her forehead and onto the top of her head. “You look weird. Is something wrong?”
“No.” I give my head a rueful shake. “Nothing wrong at all.”
“We’re almost done here for the day,” she says, nodding to her cauldron. “Just wrapping this batch up and then a couple of local healers are coming to relieve us for the night shift.”
That’s good news, especially considering my mother’s invitation for dinner. I still need to figure out how exactly I’m going to offer that invitation to my mate, but I better figure it out in the next few minutes.
Tucking myself into a seat at the side of the workroom so I can stay out of Soleil and Vayla’s way, I turn the question over and over in my mind as I watch them work.
In the end, it’s my mother’s words that come back to me as Soleil wraps up her brew and the two of us leave the apothecary, headed toward the accommodations I’ve booked us for the evening.
Let her surprise you.
After speaking briefly to the proprietress of the inn I’ve booked for us and getting our keys, we walk up a couple of flights of stairs to our room on the top floor.
“Finn,” Soleil breathes as I swing the door open. “This is incredible.”
The room is airy and rustic, with worn wood floors and whitewashed walls and a balcony which overlooks the sea. I chose it specifically hoping for this reaction.
I suppose we could have stayed with my mother—Goddess knows there are enough empty rooms in that house of hers to accommodate a couple of guests—but I thought this would be less pressure.
It’s less to throw Soleil into right away, and I absolutely know I’ve made the right choice when she wanders into the room with wide eyes, taking it all in.
We end up on the balcony, with the sea breeze ruffling our hair and an incredible sunset painting the sky in a thousand shades of purple and orange and pink.
Soleil stands in front of me at the railing, her back against my chest, my arms wrapped around her waist, keeping as much of her soft, decadent frame pressed against me as I can.
Brave. I have to be brave.
I have to let my witch know where I stand, invite her into my world, and let her make the choice.
“If you’re not too tired from your work today, I have somewhere for us to go this evening.”
“Oh really?” she asks, turning her head to nuzzle into my chest.
“Really. I want you to meet someone.” I brush my lips over the crown of her head.
“That sounds ominous.”
I chuckle. “It’s not. Or, well, I hope it’s not. My mother lives in this city, and she’s invited us to dine with her this evening. My sister is supposed to be there, too.”
For a few long, agonizing moments, she says nothing.
The silence stretches on long enough that I nearly speak again, diffuse the tension, take it back and pretend I never said—
“That sounds… fun.”
“You seem very convinced,” I tease with a kiss to her neck and all that tension unspooling in my chest.
“I’m just… not great at meeting new people.”
“Nonsense,” I tell her, and she snorts a disbelieving laugh.
“I think you know that better than anyone.”
“Unless you plan on fleeing the room as soon as you meet her, you’ll be fine. My mother is a very kind and understanding demon.”
“I bet she is,” Soleil murmurs. “She created you, after all.”
A flush of warmth runs all the way through me. “There’s no pressure on us to go. It’s just dinner. And if you’re too tired after all the work you and Vayla—”
“Of course I’ll go. I’d love to meet your mom.”
“Really?”
“Really.” She turns and winds her arms around my neck, lifting onto her toes so she can press a quick kiss against my lips.
Less quick, when I get my tail around her waist and pull her closer, when I slant my lips over hers and kiss her deep and thorough until we’re both panting.
Soleil pulls back with a breathless laugh. “If I’m meeting your mother, I need a bath first. I smell like cauldron soot.”
“You smell incredible,” I say, burying my face into the crook of her neck so I can prove it. “As always.”
“You’re biased,” she protests.
“I absolutely am.”
I could stay here and get lost in her, but if my witch wants a bath, my witch is getting the best bath she’s ever had.
Taking Soleil by the hand, I lead her back into the room and through to the adjoining bathing chamber.
It’s as expansive as the rest of the place, with tiled floors and a wide soaking tub that’s absolutely big enough for two, but I try to push those thoughts aside as I turn on the tap and warm water rushes out.
“There are plenty of soaps and oils for you to use,” I tell her. “If there’s anything else you need, let me know and I’ll go down and ask the proprietress.”
Soleil laughs softly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Well, then.” I clear my throat. “I’ll leave you to it.”
Before she can say anything else—before I can say anything else idiotic like asking if she needs company for her bath—I turn and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.
The splash of water into the tub follows, and I make myself pace even further away, all the way out to the balcony where I plunk down into one of the seats overlooking the sea.
Goddess, the indecision is agony.
Do I press closer? Do I give her space? What does my witch need right now?
The same threads of worry creep back in, the same deep-seated fear that no matter what I do, it may not be enough.
Can I be what Soleil needs? Can I be worthy of her?
My mate is the sun, and I’d soak in her warmth gladly for the rest of my life, but perhaps she wants more than a simple admirer.
The thoughts crowd in, circle close, nearly drive me mad until my softly spoken name jerks me back to the present.
“Finn?”
Soleil’s voice from behind the bathroom door has me immediately rising from my seat and crossing the room.
“Is there something you need?”
“What?”
I lean in closer and try again. “I wanted to see if there was anything you needed.”
“You might have to come in,” Soleil says. “I can’t hear you through the door.”
I can hear her just fine, but perhaps humans don’t have as keen a sense of hearing as demons do.
Slowly, I crack open the door.
The air inside the bathing chamber is humid and fragrant with the soaps and oils I spied earlier sitting on the ledge over the tub.
The tiles are warm beneath my feet from the pipes that run under them, and the first thing I see when I take a tentative half-step into the room is a stack of clothes folded into a neat pile on the chair beside the door.
Soleil’s clothes.
The demure, practical black dress she had on in the workshop. Her underthings, also black, which I try not to look at too long as I take a deep, unsteady breath and keep my eyes on the floor.
“Is there something you need?” I ask again, all my manners hanging on by a thread.
“Finn.”
I can’t help it, I look.
And fuck, what a sight.
Steam curls around Soleil’s lush form.
Her breasts are visible above the water, round and full and tipped with rosy pink nipples that harden under my gaze.
Skin flushed from the water and the steam, eyes dancing with mirth as she watches me watch her, my witch is an absolute vision, and I’m spellbound.
Sun-struck, awed, unable to do a single thing but stand here and drink her in, wondering how the hell I’d ever be able to let her go, wanting nothing more than to give her anything, everything she could ever need.