Chapter 16
WHAT WILL TOMORROW brING?
ORIE
A FEW WEEKS LATER
My heart races as the sun begins to set—it’s almost time for the surprise I set up for Carson.
While he was out talking to some of the local shop owners about the option of consignment, I’ve been taking all of his art supplies to a stunning part of the conservation area.
I know he wants to paint the area live, but it’s too much work for a human to haul all of those supplies through the woods. That’s where I come in. I can take the load off his shoulders.
Something I’m more than happy to do.
Now, I stand in his cabin—which is looking rather empty without all of his supplies—waiting for him to return. I feel his presence growing closer, the sensation now manageable.
All of my urges, and the involuntary tracking, haven’t necessarily lessened…but they’re now a welcome part of my day-to-day life. They don’t consume my every thought. They don’t overwhelm me.
They exist in harmony with me only since actually spending time with Carson.
Orian has been surprisingly less smug than I thought he would be, only saying, “I told you so” once or twice. And he’s actually a good worker, which hurts me to admit but makes me relieved.
He’s settling into a life here rather well. I know I haven’t seen him in many years, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so relaxed and, well, happy, as I have since he got here.
The door to the cabin creaks open, and I smile at Carson as he enters. My tail whips behind me as he scans the room, his eyes wide.
“Hello beautiful,” he greets, his hands sliding up my arms as he plants a kiss on my lips. “Not that I’m not over the moon to see you, but…where are my art supplies?”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “Remember a few weeks ago when you mentioned you’d love to paint in the woods?”
His lips part and his eyes widen, the pupils growing wider as he searches my eyes. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” I nod, feeling rather giddy that my surprise is in fact surprising him. “Want to go?”
He tilts his head downward, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. “Is that even a question?”
Slipping out of his arms, I walk over to the light switch, keeping my eyes on him. As I plunge us into darkness, my eyes quickly adjust. I know his don’t, though, as he quickly loses focus on where I was.
I sneak behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He doesn’t jump at my touch, just relaxes into it. Before I begin the shadow travel, I plant a kiss in the center of his back, over his t-shirt.
After a minute, we’ve traveled to our destination, and I release him from my hug. He takes a step forward, inhaling deeply at the setting.
His easel and a blank canvas are set up next to a tree stump, which I’ve used as a makeshift table for all his paints and brushes. The trees are dense in this area, but the clearing above the natural pool we’re next to lets in ample moonlight.
There’s a lot of stuff around that would be great for his paintings. Mushrooms growing on trees, lush shrubbery, and the water is crystal clear and so blue.
It’s only one of the many, many hidden gems within the conservation area.
“This is so perfect,” he says, turning to face me. “You are so perfect.”
My cheeks warm instantly, and I shrug, trying to hide just how happy I am that he likes it. “I’m glad I chose a spot you approve of.”
He walks to his canvas, picking up a brush and looking around. He takes his time scanning the area, but his eyes ultimately land on me.
“Go sit over there, my muse.” He gestures toward the base of a tree, one that has a perfect nook for someone to sit.
I listen, settling in on my knees and looking at him through narrowed eyes. “You want to paint…me?”
He raises a brow at me, his lips curving downward. “Of course I do—now, turn slightly so your back is toward me, but look over your shoulder at me.”
Without debate, I get set up in his requested pose. He’s already painting, a deep purple covering the end of his brush as it peeks into view around the side of the canvas.
His brushstrokes are along the top of the canvas right now, so I’d guess he’s starting on a background. After a few minutes, he swaps brushes, this one covered in a dark gray.
The way he moves his arm, in long strokes, makes me believe he is still laying down some sort of base. My heart picks up at the idea of him beginning to paint me. This will be a portrait of me…so much more intense than my eyes that he painted before.
“Will you slide your jacket off your shoulders?” he asks, holding a clean brush up to his face as he stares at me. “I want more of your stunning complexion in view.”
I nod, sliding my jacket down so it acts more like a shawl. He resumes painting almost instantly, his focus rather adorable. His gaze is so intense as he works, the passion clear in every brief twitch of his face.
“Carson?” I say his name rather quietly, not sure if he’ll even hear it from this distance.
He stops painting, looking up at me with soft eyes. “Yes?”
I bite my lip. “Why do you want to paint me, and not the scenery?”
“Because…” he trails off, his face flushing red instantly. “I want to paint what I love.”
The world feels like it’s both frozen and spinning around me. My heart feels just about ready to burst. Does he mean that he loves…me?
Love, a concept that I never thought I would experience, but definitely feels accurate to everything I share with him.
“I love you, Orie,” he says, and I realize I’ve been rather quiet since his initial, subtler declaration.
The smile that takes over my face is uncontrollable, my cheeks hurting from the intensity. “And I you, my artist. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
We stay like this for a while, just staring into each other’s eyes—no, into each other’s souls—letting the moment settle. He loves me, and I him. If he truly is my fated mate, I am so lucky to have found him in this world.
I end up being the one to break the silence, asking him in a rather shaky voice, “What does tomorrow bring for us?”
“I have no idea.” He shrugs, smiling as he shakes his head. “All I know is that I will be doing tomorrow with you—and every tomorrow from this point on.”
That answer is enough for me, it’s actually the perfect response. There’s certainty in the uncertainty—no matter what tomorrow brings, he will be by my side, and I will remain by his.
As he gets back to painting, I relax into the life that I see unfolding ahead of me. A life with him.
The life of an artist and his muse.
A human and a demon.
Two souls that were meant to find each other, and did.