Page 25 of Hiss and Tell (Harmony Glen #2)

Chapter Twenty-Four

S ebastian

The lake path sparkles with morning dew as I wait for Aspen at our favorite bench. The weathered leather satchel beside me contains translations, photographs of the ancient texts, and careful notes that will help me explain the impossible.

My snakes arrange themselves with unusual solemnity, sensing the significance of what’s to come. Each movement is precise, ceremonial, as if they understand we’re about to offer something sacred.

Despite the gray morning, anticipation rather than worry fills my chest. Whatever Aspen decides about what I’m going to share, I know with absolute certainty that my feelings won’t change. Iris, Mabel, and Dorothy were right. This isn’t about fixing her, it’s about offering every possibility.

She appears around the bend in the path, and even from a distance, I can see the careful way she carries herself. Like someone braced for impact but hoping for something better.

“Hi,” she says as she settles beside me on the bench.

“Hi.” The single syllable somehow feels more important than usual. “Thank you for coming.”

“I only have half an hour. Milo is having breakfast at the neighbor’s. Your mysterious message has me intrigued.” Her smile is tentative but real. “And slightly nervous.”

“Good nervous or bad nervous?”

“Hopeful nervous.” She studies my face. “You look… excited. Like you’ve discovered buried treasure.”

“Maybe I have.” Opening the satchel, I withdraw the first of the translated pages. “After our conversation the other night, I started researching. Into Gorgon history, family abilities, ancient practices that might be… relevant.”

Her pulse quickens visibly at her throat. “Relevant how?”

“Male Gorgons are rare, as you know. And some of us have gifts beyond the sanctuary effect or the dream manifestations you’ve seen.

” I pull out the first photograph—the ancient illustration of the healing ritual.

“This has been in my family for generations. It contains knowledge passed down since ancient times, including something very specific about healing.”

Her breath catches as the implication becomes clear. “Healing?”

My eyes meet hers, holding steady. “My blood has properties not found in humans. The blood from the right side of a male Gorgon’s body, freely given during a sacred ritual, can heal certain conditions.”

“Certain conditions,” she repeats, hardly daring to believe what I’m suggesting. “Like…”

“Yes.” My fingers find hers, intertwining naturally. “Including the one you told me about.”

The world seems to stop. I watch her process the information, see hope and disbelief war across her features.

“That’s…” Her voice fails her. “That’s impossible.”

“I thought so too,” I admit. “Until I found this.” I turn to show the ancient illustration—a male Gorgon with outstretched hands, droplets of blood falling into a ceremonial bowl. Beside him, a woman with her hands cupped to receive something glowing.

“It’s called the Ritual of Sacred Exchange,” I explain gently. “The texts describe it as more than just physical healing. It’s a… connection. An exchange of essence.”

“And you think this could work? For me?” The hope rising in her voice is almost painful to hear.

My expression grows solemn. “The texts describe successful healing of conditions that match your symptoms. But Aspen,” I take both her hands now, making sure she’s looking directly at me, “I need you to understand something absolutely crucial.”

“What?”

“This is a possibility I’m offering, not a requirement.” My voice roughens with emotion. “Whether you want to try this or not, whether it works or not—my feelings for you won’t change. I don’t see you as something to be fixed. I see you as someone I’m falling in love with, exactly as you are.”

The declaration sends warmth flooding through her despite the cool breeze. “I’m so glad you said that out loud. I’d almost convinced myself I hallucinated it the first time.”

“Then I’ll have to tell you more often. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not running anywhere.” My sanctuary effect pulses stronger around us. “Except maybe toward you.”

Something inside her—some wall built brick by painful brick—begins to crumble. “So this ritual… it’s not because you think I need to be different?”

“No. Because you’re perfect exactly as you are.” My thumb traces her cheek. “But there’s something else you need to know. Something that changes everything about right now.”

“What?”

“Gorgons can’t catch human viruses. We’re immune to them.” The words tumble out in a rush. “You can’t transmit anything to me, Aspen. You never could.”

The world stops. “What?”

“Our biology is different. Ancient. We’re immune to human pathogens.” My eyes search hers. “You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

The relief hits her so hard she gasps. Four years of careful distance, of stopping herself from getting close, of protecting potential partners. And now she learns I’ve been safe all along.

“I can’t hurt you,” she whispers.

“You could never hurt me.”

And then she’s kissing me, desperate and hungry and free.

Her hands cup the back of my neck, then roam my back as my snakes try to create a living curtain around us.

Her mouth moves against mine with what seems like years of held-back desire, and when she makes a soft sound of need, I feel it in my bones.

“Aspen,” I breathe against her lips. “God, I’ve wanted this.”

“Then why haven’t we…?” she demands, pulling me closer.

“Because I was afraid,” I admit, my hands sliding up her sides. “Afraid of pressuring you, and truth be told, I was afraid of wanting you too much.”

“Want me,” she whispers. “Want me as much as you can.”

I respond by lifting her onto my lap, and she wraps her legs around me as my lips, then tongue find the sensitive spot beneath her ear. The sound she makes sends fire straight through me—desperate and hungry and completely without shame.

My snakes brush against her arms, her shoulders, creating sensations she’s never experienced, and when she rocks against me, the friction nearly undoes me completely.

“Sebastian,” she gasps, her hands fisting in my shirt. “This is—”

“Perfect,” I finish, my voice rough with want. “This is perfect.”

But even as I lose myself in her taste, her warmth, the way she fits against me like she was made for this, reality intrudes. We’re on a public path in broad daylight. She has to get home to Milo soon, and anyone could come around the bend at any moment.

“We should stop,” I manage against her throat, even as my hands refuse to let her go. “We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“I know,” she breathes, but doesn’t pull away. “I just… I can’t seem to stop wanting you.”

“Good.” I rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing hard. “Because I can’t stop wanting you, either.”

“This is crazy,” she whispers. “Making out in the park like we’re seventeen.”

“Completely insane,” I agree, then steal one more kiss because I can’t help myself. “But I regret nothing.”

She laughs, the sound breathless and bright. “I should get home.”

“Of course.” I help her stand, both of us smoothing rumpled clothes and trying to look respectable. “Thank you. For listening, for considering the ritual. For not running away when I told you about ancient Gorgon magic.”

“Thank you for giving me hope,” she says simply. “I need time to process everything, but Sebastian… this changes things. All of it.”

“Take all the time you need,” I tell her, though my snakes are already reaching toward her like they can’t bear to see her go. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”