Page 49 of Crown of the Mist

I pull back quickly, my heart hammering in my chest. “I—sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I just—”

“Bree.” His voice is quiet, steady, but there’s something raw in it that makes me freeze.

I risk a glance up at him, my cheeks burning. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes... His eyes are anything but. They’re soft and searching, like he’s trying to understand something that doesn’t make sense.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says finally, his hand twitching at his side like he wants to reach for me but doesn’t.

“I wasn’t thinking,” I mumble, my gaze dropping to the glowing daisies. “I just... I got caught up in the moment.”

Rhett exhales slowly, and I feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing. “Bree, you don’t have to explain. I get it.”

His words settle over me like a balm, easing the sharp edges of my embarrassment. I risk another glance at him, and this time, his lips curve into the faintest of smiles.

“Besides,” he adds, his tone light but warm, “I’ve had worse ways to start my morning.”

A surprised laugh escapes me, and the tension inmy chest loosens just enough for me to breathe. The mist swirls thicker around us, wrapping the moment in quiet magic.

“Come on,” Rhett says, rising to his feet and offering me a hand. “Let’s get inside before Jace starts yelling about us missing breakfast.”

I take his hand, his grip firm and steady as he pulls me to my feet. My heart’s still racing, but it doesn’t feel like fear. It feels... right.

As we head back to the house, I glance over my shoulder at the daisies. They’re still glowing, their soft light blending with the mist.

Maybe they are trying to tell me something.

The warmth of the kitchen feels almost overwhelming after the coolness of the backyard. The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon wraps around me as I step inside, Rhett just a step behind me. Jace is at the stove, flipping pancakes with a flair that borders on theatrical. Gray sits at the table, scrolling through something on his phone, while Theo leans against the counter, sipping from a steaming mug.

“About time,” Jace calls over his shoulder, his blue eyes narrowing playfully. “Thought you two got lost in the backyard.”

“Bree was admiring her gardening skills,” Rhettreplies, his voice steady but carrying the barest hint of something I can’t quite name.

I glance at him sharply, but his expression is calm, unreadable.

“The daisies?” Theo asks, his interest piqued.

I nod, sliding into a chair at the table. “They’re... different.”

Gray’s gaze lifts from his phone, sharp and assessing. “Different how?”

“They’re glowing,” Rhett says, leaning against the fridge. He folds his arms, his green eyes flicking to me briefly before settling on Theo. “Like, actually glowing.”

Theo sets his mug down, his brows drawing together in thought. “Glowing how? Bioluminescence or something else?”

I shrug, avoiding their curious gazes. “I don’t know. They’re just... not normal. But it’s probably nothing.”

“Nothing,” Jace echoes, setting a plate of pancakes on the table. “Because glowing flowers are totally nothing. Happens all the time.”

I force a smile, grateful when Rhett changes the subject by reaching for the coffee pot. But I can feel their attention lingering, like they’re filing the daisies away as another thing to figure out. Another mystery tied to me.

“Sit,” Jace commands, nudging Theo toward the table. “You too, Rhett. Breakfast is served, and I expect full reviews.”

The early morning light catches on Gray’s sharp green eyes as he watches me from across the table, his expression unreadable. The line of his jaw looks even harder in the soft glow filtering through the window, and for a second, I feel pinned by the weight of his gaze.

Jace sits to my left, his easy smile curling at the corner of his mouth as he nudges a plate of pancakes toward me. “Eat up, Bree. Can’t have you wasting away on us.” His bright blue eyes twinkle with mischief, but there’s a flicker of something deeper beneath his usual charm.

Theo leans back in his chair, fingers wrapped around his mug of coffee. His dark hair falls across his forehead as he tilts his head, studying me in that quiet, analytical way of his. It’s like he’s trying to piece me together, one careful observation at a time.

Rhett, seated beside me, shifts slightly, his broad shoulders brushing mine. The tee shirt he’s wearing reveals the strong lines of his forearms, the tan of his skin against the black fabric a sharp contrast. His green eyes flick to me, steady and grounding, before dropping back to his plate.