Page 97

Normally, I loved yams slathered in butter. Tonight, the brackish and cloying mixture congealed on my tongue. The woolen blanket bunched over my lap, suddenly too balmy, whereas my shoulders hunched from the chill.

The knight across from me might be staring, or he might not. I hadn’t checked.

I’d never had a problem meeting the eyes of someone I fancied. I always did the intimidating, not the other way around. I flirted, or I taunted, or I mocked boys, depending on what enticed them.

But not with Aire. He wasn’t a boy. He was a man.

A man whose touch did the intimidating. I’d never been with someone like him. Someone who guessed and knew so much about me, whose silence hacked me apart, whose words put me together. Someone who once saw a puppet, then a liar, and then a better person.

A girl who wouldn’t manipulate, or bribe, or coerce people into being friends with her. Who didn’t take what didn’t belong to her—what she hadn’t earned.

This authentic knight, who looked at me, and listened to me, and reached for my hand.

Did I want him merely because I couldn’t have him?

Or did I want him just because of who he was? Because of his truths. Because of nights on swings and in a glade. Because I liked having him beside me, in the depths of the forest. Because I liked making him laugh.

With Aire, I could be myself. Not only a timber girl of fairytales, but just a girl. Just a young woman.

Lyrik and Nicu exchanged words, and Punk flapped her wings, and then I heard them putter about. I heard the clatter of cups and plates. I heard swaggering footfalls, a musical chuckle, and a discreet chirp, all three fading down the stairway, disappearing somewhere deep within the treehouse colony.

And we were alone. They’d left us alone.

Flames stroked the darkness. I shuffled, unsure if I wanted to get closer to the heat or as far from it as possible.

It was only when I raised my head and met Aire’s gaze that I realized something extraordinary: I’d forgotten about my nose. It protruded, longer than it had been earlier, not a branch, but not a button either. Not enough to get in the way like my ta-tas, but enough to notice a difference.

Fairytales came with curses. This was mine. If I were a decent person, I’d be grateful since curses could be worse. A less fortunate soul might turn into a pockmarked hag at the stroke of midnight.

Yet I’d forgotten my nose, and even when I remembered, I didn’t shrink away or cover it up. I didn’t need or want to. Not in front of him.

The flames writhed across his face, and the blue oracles of his eyes glittered. I could tell he’d been watching me for a while.

Gads. The length of our stare. Unwavering, building to a confrontation.

Call it fate or coincidence, but we rose at the same time. And kept staring.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Why did you take my hand?”

A confused sort of warmth filled his voice. “Why did you let me?”

Since I didn’t know the answer, and maybe he didn’t either, I just shook my head. A small gesture tucked inside a tremendous moment.

Aire strode over to the railing and grabbed it, squeezing the rim as he focused on the woods. The sight drove my feet across the terrace. I padded to the space beside him and clasped the ledge, wanting to see whatever he saw out there, wantinghimto see whatIsaw, too.

An eternity passed like this, my stomach in knots, his body and scent so near. Our pinkies could touch. My digit twitched and then—fuck it—curled against his.

Aire broke from his position, spinning to cup my face. “Aspen.”

“Aire,” I managed.

“Thoughts of you consume me. I try to quell them, yet they persist.” He thumbed my cheeks. “My heart is confused. My body is not.” He drifted that thumb over the beauty mark above my lip. “What is to be done?”

A delirious breath whooshed out of me. The fire burned my back, and I tasted smoke on my tongue, and I felt the world go silent.

Something arose in me. Something I’d been missing.

My mouth quirked into a grin. I moved slowly, guiding him backward, and then gently pushed him against one of the load-bearing tree trunks. Aire made a beautiful sound of surprise, his palms landing on my waist, his fingers tightening as if to keep me from leaving him.