Page 11

CHAPTER 11

ROSALYN

T he giggle that had bubbled up in my throat faded when Bjorn crossed the field with purpose, grabbed me, and put such a passionate kiss on my lips that it took my breath away.

I saw stars, my head feeling light, and the rest of me feeling…

My gods, how strong he was.

He held me against him like I weighed nothing.

His lips were so soft, his mouth tasting sweet from…

was that sugar blossom?

I breathed in his heady scents of sage, leather, and the ocean breezes that had clung to his hair and clothes from lands far away.

My stomach knotted, and deep within me, I felt bubbling desire.

Warmth flooded between my legs, and a surge of want crashed over me as I pressed my breasts against him and kissed him back, only to feel guilty.

I had let myself take a moment I hadn’t earned.

Giggling, I pulled back.

Bjorn looked at me with passion in his eyes.

“Rosalyn, I lo?—”

When he saw the expression on my face, his passion gave way to confusion.

“Rosalyn?”

I took his arms and turned him around.

Behind me, the stallion that guarded the herd stood with a pale pink mare, their bodies pressed together, tails entwined, and horns touching.

From their horns came an effervescent glow of pink, ethereal hearts and rose petals swirling in a potent love enchantment that had temporarily encapsulated Bjorn.

“I’d love to say it was my beauty that inspired you, but it looks like unicorn magic was involved.”

Bjorn stared at the unicorns, then turned back to me, his cheeks burning red.

“By the Nine Gods, I am so sorry, Rosalyn. I was thinking of you, and when you appeared, I just… I am so embarrassed. I don’t know what to say. I’m so very sorry,” he said with an awkward laugh.

“That was so forward of me and?—”

“No harm done— at all ,” I said with a grin, wishing my charms had overcome him.

No such luck.

“You are one hundred percent forgiven. It’s a good thing you’re a good kisser, or we may have had a different outcome,” I said, then laughed.

“You should see the expression on your face.” I chuckled lightly and set my hand on his arm.

“Really, Bjorn, it’s okay.”

He covered his mouth with his hand and then laughed at the absurdity of the moment.

“If my mother…” he began, then seemed to catch himself.

“I do apologize.”

“Apology accepted. Please, forget it,” I replied, wishing with all my heart that he would not forget it.

“Hungry?” I asked, gesturing to my picnic basket.

“I…” Bjorn said, seeming to realize he’d taken it from my hand and set it there when he moved to kiss me.

“Yes, I am.”

“That looks like a good spot,” I added, pointing to a nearby willow tree.

“Shall we?”

“You’re so kind to think of me.”

“Of course,” I said gently, touching his arm.

One thing is sure, Mister Runeson.

After that kiss, I won’t stop thinking of you any time soon!

We made our way to the shady tree nearby.

From there, we had a good view of the unicorns.

Bjorn and I worked together, spreading the picnic blanket and setting out the food.

I could tell by his actions that he was embarrassed by getting caught in the spell, and once more, I wondered if he had someone back home.

But he’d mentioned his mother, which seemed…

odd.

Maybe Rune elves had some traditions with which I was not familiar.

Once the blanket was ready, Merry hopped out of the basket and selected the best spot, lying back down again.

“Will he run off?” Bjorn asked, eyeing the caticorn who was exchanging nose sniffs with the firewolf.

“Not Merry. He’s my most loyal man. He never gets far, but mostly because he’s perpetually lazy.”

Bjorn and I both laughed.

I turned to Smoke.

“I didn’t forget you,” I told him, pulling out a bag of dog cookies and tossing him one.

“You really are too kind to do this, Rosalyn. The elder left me supplies in the cabin. And I… I know I left abruptly last night. I am truly sorry for that.” He paused and met my gaze.

Behind his eyes, I saw warring emotions.

“It wasn’t anything you did. I’m sorry.”

I took a scone from the basket and handed it to him.

“Less apologies. More eating,” I said, then sat back.

Bjorn gave me a warm and grateful smile, then settled in.

Bjorn Runeson was turning out to be a pleasant puzzle.

He set his scone aside and politely poured me a goblet of bloomberry wine before pouring one for himself and putting together a modest plate, which included the scone.

But he lingered as he looked at the unicorns.

“Now that I’ve almost recovered over the embarrassment of kissing you without your permission, and my wits are slowly returning, you mentioned something about the unicorn problem?”

I nodded.

“That’s why I wanted to see you,” I lied.

I totally lied.

“Last night, you saw the strange episode with Merry. He’s been having odd bursts of magic. And then my friend, Juniper, mentioned a local farmer’s snufflecorns have also exhibited odd behavior. Uni-horned creatures are most in tune with earth magic, aren’t they? We wondered if maybe there was some connection.”

Bjorn nodded.

“You might be right. I don’t know how it is for pixies, but for elves, we are also sensitive to shifts in earth magic. Something is wrong with the magic here. It’s too wild, working in ways it should not. Look,” Bjorn said, gesturing to the unicorns.

I scanned the field, seeing what he meant.

Three colts chased a whirlwind of sugar blossom floss, a single raincloud poured over a particularly grumpy-looking unicorn, and sparks and rainbows shot everywhere.

Everything was in chaos.

“Do you know these lands well?” Bjorn asked.

“Is there any great source of magic out here, something that might amplify things?”

“I don’t know. I moved to Moonshine Hollow to apprentice as a magical baker. I wasn’t raised here. The ancient oak in town is magical. It is home to the fairies of Moonshine Hollow who tend to our flora and fauna. Still, most of the natural magical features are in Silver Vale, on the other side of the river. As far as I know, out here, there are just fields, vineyards, and farms.”

Bjorn frowned, then sighed.

He took a deep drink of the wine and ate a few bites from his plate.

Once more, I noted the proper way in which he ate.

Maybe that explained the comment about his mother.

Did he have an overbearing mother who was a stickler for propriety and judgmental of girlfriends?

Yikes.

Bjorn turned back to me.

“So, you’re not from here? Where were you born?”

“Spring Haven,” I said, referring to one of the pixie home cities.

“It is a small village, almost all pixies, and dreadfully dull. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to leave.”

“Your family…”

“Mother only. My father died when I was very young. I still visit her sometimes. And you? Is all of your family in Frostfjord?” I asked carefully.

The last time I’d brought up his family, he’d hesitated.

“Oh…yes,” he said with a hesitant smile.

“Mother. Father. Three brothers and one sister.”

“Big family. Are you close?”

“Too close,” he said with a laugh.

“Being here is like being able to breathe again.”

I laughed.

“I know exactly what you mean. Pixies have their own ways of doing things, and I just wanted to live somewhere with more variety of thoughts and ways of being. I love Moonshine Hollow.”

“It is very different from Frostfjord as well. Everything here is more”—he paused and met my gaze—“charming.” Bjorn cleaned his throat.

“Frostfjord is loud, cold, and so constricting. Here,” he said, then gestured to the fields.

“It’s all light and warmth,” he added, looking back at me and giving me a soft smile.

In the distance, thunder rumbled once more.

Bjorn eyed the skyline.

“Getting closer,” he said, looking at the dark clouds on the horizon.

He turned back to his food once more, smiling as he ate.

I loved watching him pick through the bites I’d chosen for him.

He left nothing aside, trying everything with a smile.

“I’m sure you must miss something. Maybe your girlfriend?” I asked, trying to keep as nonchalant a tone as possible.

“No girlfriend. I love all my siblings, but my sister Asa is most on my mind.” He turned and looked at Merry.

“She made me promise I’d bring her back a caticorn kitten. Do you know of anyone who has them?”

“I do! Magnificent Meg, an ale witch who lives a bit outside of town, has a pair that had a litter of kittens several weeks ago. I’ll inquire with her. And also ask if her caticorns are having glitter sneezes.”

“Thank you. I would hate to disappoint Asa.”

The sky rumbled once more.

This time, Bjorn frowned, then stood and gazed at the sky.

Smoke, who had been trying to catch the brightly colored poppy gophers who kept popping their heads out of their holes to tease the firewolf, whined and then trotted back to Bjorn.

“Rosalyn,” Bjorn said, but he didn’t need to say more.

Several of the unicorns were looking up at the sky.

The storm clouds that had been in the far distance only moments ago were moving with haste toward us, the wind blowing.

On it, I smelled rain.

“Oh no,” I said, scooping Merry back up and putting him in his basket.

Bjorn moved quickly to help me gather my things.

We had just put the last items into the picnic basket when the sky rumbled loudly, and thick clouds rolled in, letting loose their rain.

At once, we found ourselves in a downpour.

“Come on,” Bjorn said with a laugh, taking the picnic basket from my hand so I could carry Merry.

“This way. To the cabin.”

We hurried off, running across the field as the sky dumped buckets of water on us.

In his basket, Merry meowed loudly in protest.

When the rain hit Smoke, his fur hissed, and plumes of steam rolled off him.

“I can’t fly in the rain,” I told Bjorn with a laugh.

“And I’m a slow runner.”

Bjorn chuckled and kept pace with me as we finally made our way to the cabin.

Bjorn pushed the door open and we rushed inside.

We were both soaked through.

Laughing, with rain running down our faces, we turned and looked at one another.

Bjorn’s blond hair was plastered to his head, water droplets clinging to his braids.

The wet fabric of his tunic had gone nearly transparent from the downpour, revealing the faint blue glow of runes beneath the fabric.

He was a sight to behold, even dripping wet.

Maybe especially dripping wet.

While the spell that had ensnared Bjorn earlier was gone, whatever was trying to come to life between us hadn’t disappeared.

My laughter died on my lips as our eyes met, and that fluttering feeling returned to my belly, more insistent this time.

No unicorn magic now.

Now, it was just Bjorn and me, alone in a cabin with rain drumming on the roof.

“You’re soaked,” he said gently.

“So are you,” I replied, not caring one bit about the water puddling at our feet.

Something changed in his expression.

It was like a decision had been made, caution abandoned.

The space between us felt charged with the same wild magic affecting the unicorns, but this was our own making.

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him toward me, placing my lips on his.

This time, there was no giggling, no pulling away, no explanations needed.

His strong arms circled my waist, drawing me closer.

Unlike the unicorn-induced kiss, this one started gentle but quickly blazed into something more desperate.

He tasted like bloomberry wine, and once more, I caught that tantalizing smell of the ocean.

My fingers tangled in his wet hair as his hands stroked my back, careful of my wings even in his urgency.

I melted into him, heat coursing through me.

Bjorn met my passion without hesitation, his lips claiming mine with a hunger that sent sparks shooting from the tips of my wings.

I pressed my body against him, feeling the hard planes of his chest against my softness, the pounding of his heart matching my own frantic rhythm.

When he deepened the kiss, a small sound escaped my throat—half sigh, half moan—and his arms tightened around me in response.

My head was spinning when we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard.

His blue eyes had gone dark with desire, and the runes on his arms glowed faintly beneath his wet sleeves.

Whatever this was, it was just beginning, and we were both lost in it.