Episode 50
The Heat of His Fire
“I’m just slowing you down,” Arisanna says as Cerian waits for her to catch up with him. Again. How does he move so fast?
“Perhaps I should hold your hand. Drag you along.” A teasing glint fills his eyes, and Arisanna smiles. This lighthearted side of him that’s buried beneath so many layers has been showing itself more and more lately, and she’s not complaining.
Aside from a generous supply of dried nuts and berries that Cerian carries in a knapsack across his back, they consumed the last of the food Cook packed an hour ago.
As the sun casts lengthening shadows in the forest around them, they traipse through the woods toward some secret destination Cerian refuses to reveal.
But he seems eager to show her whatever it is.
Throughout the day, he’s paused occasionally to let off some of his heat. He never speaks when he does it, and for the most part, she pretends not to notice. But it seems to be helping him.
As they walk, he glances at the sky peeking through the branches high overhead, and she follows his gaze. Faint streaks of orange and gold announce the coming sunset, and Arisanna frowns. “It will be dark soon.”
They’ve been walking for hours. Will they have to find their way back to Windhaven in the dark?
When she returns her gaze to Cerian, a sheepish look fills his face. That’s a new one coming from him.
“What are you hiding?” She draws out the words as she stands there with her hands on her hips, and his mouth twitches at the corners.
He shakes his head. “It’s a surprise.” Turning, he calls back over his shoulder, “Just a little farther.”
He’s definitely hiding something.
She picks her way through the ferns and the twigs, following him as he glides soundlessly ahead of her. When he stops in front of a massive fir tree, she crosses her arms. “If you tell me we traipsed through the woods for miles so you can show me a tree, I—”
“Not just the tree. What’s in the tree.”
“In the tree?” She gazes up at the towering evergreen. It looks like all the other trees they passed to get to this one. Just bigger than most of them. “It’s an extra-large tree?”
He might as well say she’s hopeless with the look he gives her. “Come on.”
“Come on? Come on where? I thought you were showing me this tree.”
“Do you trust me?”
Something about the way he looks at her makes her stomach flutter. She trusts him...doesn’t she?
Before she can respond, he steps away from her and the tree and creates a stream of fire between his hands. The orange light dances across his face, bringing out the brilliant green of his eyes, and Arisanna studies his high cheekbones. His smooth skin. His full lips and pointed ears.
She thought he might kiss her today...but he hasn’t. He’s barely come close to her at all. But she doesn’t dare ask him about it. If she did, he’d probably retreat beneath those layers he hides behind.
After a few minutes, his flames grow weaker until they flicker out. The first time that happened, she asked if he’d used up all his fire magic, and he chuckled.
His fire really does have deep magic stores.
As he steps closer to her, he finds her eyes again and holds out his hand. “Do you trust me?”
She glances from his face to his hand and back again. A strange mix of vulnerability and longing shines in his eyes, and hesitantly, before he can change his mind, she places her hand in his. It’s cool to the touch. At least, it feels cool compared to how warm his hands usually are.
Is his heart racing?
“Don’t be frightened,” he says softly as he pulls her to his chest.
Now her heart is pounding. What is he planning?
When vines appear out of nowhere and wrap around them both, she bites back a scream. “Cerian! Are you doing this?”
“It’s all right. But I’ll stop if you want me to.”
The vines slow their movement, and she clutches his shirt. “Why are you tying us together?”
“Do you trust me?” he asks again.
Swallowing, she searches his eyes. They’re so open right now, but the longer she takes to answer, the more shuttered they become.
“Yes. Yes, I-I trust you.”
“I won’t let you fall.”
“You what?”
The vines bind their bodies so close that her cheeks flame, but she barely has time to dwell on every part of him that’s pressed against her when the ground drops away, and she gasps.
“You showed me your observation deck,” he says as his vines carry them higher and higher. “Now I want to show you mine.”
Her fingernails dig into his chest as the ground grows distant, and she slides her eyes shut. She’s never thought herself squeamish about heights, but usually she’s not flying through the air, suspended by vines.
Magic vines.
When they stop rising, her eyes flash open, and she gasps again. It’s...a treehouse. Grown into the side of the tree.
His vines lower them to an open balcony surrounding a small enclosed space on three sides. Thank the heavens there’s a solid railing attached. As soon as their feet hit the floor, his magical vines unwind and retreat, but she doesn’t loosen her hold on his shirt.
The view is breathtaking. No wonder he chose this tree.
It rises above its neighbors, offering stunning vistas for miles.
The tease of a sunset to the west promises gorgeous colors swimming across the horizon.
And to the south, if she looks hard enough, she can almost pick out Nunia in the distance where the forest ends. The thought leaves her homesick.
“What are you thinking?” he asks. His eyes are a little clouded, and she blinks a few times to clear her head.
“Food. I should feed you. You must—”
“I’ll be all right. We...we should save what’s left for...”
She gazes up at him, waiting for him to finish.
He glances away and exhales slowly. “This was a bad idea. Forgive me. I should have—”
“Cerian. Were you planning to stay up here all night?”
When he turns back to her, there’s a guarded hope in his eyes. He probably could use some food by the look of him, but if he wants to...to sleep up here, they should save what they have left for morning.
“Have you been planning this all day?” she asks softly.
“Just for the past few hours. We were having such a good time, I...”
“Didn’t want it to end?” A smile slips onto her face, and she relaxes against him. “Won’t your family worry when we don’t return?”
He shrugs. “I often stay out in the woods overnight.”
Yet another facet of her complicated elf. It’s not really surprising, though. He’d probably live in the woods if he wasn’t a prince.
With a wife.
She glances at the treehouse again. It’s big enough to lie down inside, and there even seems to be a makeshift bed of sorts.
A bed. One.
Stars above. He wants to sleep beside her.
Together.
“Are you all right?” he asks. Then his walls go up again. “I’ll return you to Windhaven. I don’t know what I was—”
“Cerian, stop.” She places her finger over his lips the way he did to her that morning. “I don’t want you to take me back. Not tonight.”
Relief fills his eyes.
“Do you have blankets in that bag?” she asks as she lowers her finger, and his eyes grow wide.
“I should have planned this better.”
Laughter flows from her, and his mouth ticks up.
“I guess you’ll have to keep me warm,” she whispers.
Did she say that out loud? Judging by the flush creeping up both their necks, she must have.
“I’ll try not to set you on fire.” His brows wrinkle in frustration, and without thinking, she reaches up to smooth them. Are his depleted plant-magic stores affecting him more than he’s letting on?
As she trails her fingers over his brows, his breath hitches.
Taking her cue from him, she whispers, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
His throat bobs as he barely nods, and she lifts her other hand. Does she dare touch his ears?
Without taking her eyes off his, she slips her fingers past his temples, and he stiffens.
Maybe he’s not ready for that.
Pulling back, she drops her hands. “I’m sorry. I thought—”
“No. Please. Don’t...don’t stop.”
She searches his face. The vulnerability written in his gaze—and the longing—crosses the space between them, twisting something in her heart. Affection. Caring.
No, something more than that. Something deeper. Undeniable.
“Cerian,” she breathes. “I...”
His brows wrinkle, but he doesn’t prompt her. He just waits for her to finish.
And she needs to say it. Because he needs to hear it. Desperately. And it’s true. Every part of her longs to shout it to the forest below. Somewhere along the way, this broody elven prince stole her heart.
A smile slips over her face as the urge to laugh fills her. His eyes brim with confusion, and she gives in to her mirth, dropping her head back and letting laughter bubble forth.
He tilts his head slightly. “I don’t under—”
“Cerian.” She finds his eyes again. Latches on to his gaze.
Those beautiful emerald eyes of his. His heart thunders a comforting thrum in her own chest. That heartbeat that’s been hers since before she understood what it was.
“Cerian,” she murmurs again as she clutches the leather over his chest and presses her hand to her own heart.
“Your heart. It was always here. You were always here. Waiting for me. For us. And I—”
“I love you.” The words fly from him, and she gasps.
“You...but...” She shakes her head.
At her response, his eyes darken, and he pulls away, but she holds fast to his leathers.
“Wait. That’s what I was trying to tell you. I love you. Desperately. I think...I think part of me always has. I just didn’t know—”
But before she can finish, he slides his hands along her jaw and crushes his lips to hers. Her heart pounds, and so does his, and if there’s any separation between the beating in their chests, it’s impossible to tell.
And he’s all sparks and berries and...and passion. Kissing her with an aching hunger that leaves every inch of her body buzzing with longing for his kisses. His touch. The sweetness of his plant magic and the heat of his fire.
As if a floodgate has been opened or an inferno has raged to life inside him, he leans into her, into the kiss, until her back presses against the solid trunk of the tree.
She couldn’t move if she wanted to. And she doesn’t want to. She never wants to. This, here, with him—as his kiss leaves her breathless and his warmth sets her whole body shivering—it’s everything. More than everything.
All these layers he’s hidden beneath. She’s fallen in love with each hidden facet. Every strength. Every weakness. Every part of him. Even his scowls.
And that simmering passion he hides.
It’s not simmering anymore. His warm hands slide along her jaw. Dig into her hair. The heat flows from him like a blazing fire that could keep her warm for the rest of her life.
Every second, he grows warmer. Soon, he’ll be too hot to touch. But not yet. For now, he’s hers, and she wants to get lost in him. In his fire and his passion.
Cerian. Always Cerian.
It could never be anyone else.