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He sat opposite the shaman. He’d outgrown the magic of his own tribe and was looking for another option. This was a guided meditation, a way to drill deeper and see how he could handle his ever-growing powers. Since putting on the ring his energy levels had soared, as had the complexity of the type of enchantment he could do. The shaman’s voice was calm, his words repetitive, and he let them wash over him. He was standing on the edge of a deep ravine.

Spread out in front of him were the four kingdoms. They already had control of the fifth, having removed the leader due to his stupidity, and his people needed a strong visionary leader. It hadn’t taken much to demonstrate he was more than capable and ruthless enough to be their king. And now he was willing to extend the same courtesy to the other elves, they should not be held back or belittled for who they were and once he commanded them all he would turn his sights outward. The fae would be first—they thought themselves so much better than his kin and he would burn their golden Meadowlands to dust. Next would be the dragons to repossess the hunting plains they’d stolen, which were crying out for better use and to avenge their encroachment. Then he would see who else would be deserving of his mastery.

He was getting distracted; his plans would not come to fruition unless he spent his time ensuring he made use of every drop of his newfound gifts. He refocused on the quiet methodical pattern of the shaman’s chanting, breathing deeply of the aromatics that had been added to the fire and sank into his consciousness. His magic was changing. It had always been a bright and bold beast but now it was strong, like a fire raging, and he was determined to rein it in and use it to its full. He was the one in control, not his magic, and it would do as he commanded. He let his breath carry him to his core. Before he’d lost his love, his magic had been smooth and clean, now as he probed it, there was a jagged edge and spike of darkness deeper than anything he’d seen. He welcomed the dark, it called to him, and he would embrace it fully.

He opened his eyes. The world around him hadn’t changed, but he had and those in his way could either step to the side or he would remove them. This was a new dawn for the elves, his name would be spoken with awe and fear, and the elves would conquer all.

Chris started awake. This was becoming a habit, his jar felt far too small, and he hurtled out of it in fear of getting stuck. That had never happened before. The dream was very odd. He was chasing a new destiny where he would rule over all the elves, which was the most ridiculous thought, why would he want to be in control of the lives of other people? Other people sucked, and if he didn’t need to eat, he’d limit his contact to anyone who wasn’t lovely, like Jack for example.

He glanced down at his hands, he could see them, or rather more to the point he couldn’t see through them. His arms, legs and torso were the same, and he realised he was standing on the floor.

The door opened and Jack let himself in. “I didn’t mean to dist— Chris? You look, well, fleshy.”

Chris patted his arms. “I feel fleshy too.”

Jack’s eyes were wide, and his breath hitched. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes.” The idea of Jack touching him made his heart race.

Jack reached out and ran his fingers through Chris’s hair, the touch gentle and reverent. “It’s silky soft, like I imagined it would be.”

“You’ve been imagining how my hair would feel?” he asked, not quite believing his own ears.

“I’ve been imagining a lot of things, if I’m honest.”

He’d been able to stroke Jack, but up until now, he hadn’t been able to return the favour. Chris didn’t know why he was now more corporeal than ever, but he didn’t care, not when his mind was filled with all the things they might be able to do. Chris licked his lips. “I’m thinking what it would be like to kiss you properly, now I’m more than a whisp.”

“Maybe we should stop talking and take action.”

They’d tried to kiss before and Jack had said he’d been happy, but this was different. He didn’t know how to begin.

Jack must have seen his uncertainty, and stepped closer, laying his hand across his cheek. “Don’t look so worried. I know what I’m doing.”

Jack pressed their lips together and Chris had never felt so in tune with anyone, the gentle caress was perfect. Jack wasn’t pushing for more, but Chris would like to. He deepened the kiss. Jack’s little moan of surprise was thrilling. His body seemed to know what to do, and he held Jack closer, wrapping his arms around him. He felt a purr of something deep inside, which he was sure was more than just his libido. Jack made him feel alive, and nothing had ever come close to that.

They pulled apart, both a little breathless. “Not bad for a first kiss,” Jack said with a grin.

He couldn’t shake the feeling this was far from his first kiss, and locked away in the same place that purr had come from were a load more memories. But it was the first kiss he could properly remember and his first kiss with Jack. And even if he’d kissed a thousand others at some other time and place, he would bet his pointy ears none of them were as good.

“Maybe we should do it again, to make sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

“Absolutely. But you should know that I want to do a lot more than kiss you,” Jack said, his smile flirty and full of promise.

A flash of utmost desire flooded through him, he wanted to put Jack on his back and take him, claim him, make him his. He swooped in for another kiss but instead of connecting he passed straight through.

“No!” he cried. “No!”

He was back to normal, all wispy and useless. Jack had his hands up trying to placate him. “It’s fine, don’t panic.”

“How can this be happening? How can I be solid enough to kiss you one second and then have it snatched from me the next?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “But we’ll figure it out. You’ve been getting more corporeal day by day. Maybe this is the start of you changing permanently but it takes a few goes.”

How could he be so calm, so rational? “What if that was my only chance?”

“It won’t be, I’m sure of it.”

He wanted to hold Jack again; he needed to hold him. He tried to touch him, but his hands went straight through. “See, I can’t!”

“Maybe you need to rest, becoming corporeal must have taken a lot of strength. Or maybe you need to eat?”

The kiss had filled his reserves like nothing else, he wasn’t hungry, but there was an encroaching blanket of fatigue. His jar called to him, he could curl up and be safe, but he could be as safe with Jack.

“If I go back in my jar, will you take me to your room?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I’ll clear you a space on my bookcase. You know how much I love my books.”

Chris wanted Jack to love him more than any old book, but if he was a silly spirit in a jar, then Jack wouldn’t want him once the curiosity had passed.

“Can you put me on your nightstand instead?”

“I can put you on my pillow if you want.”

Chris laughed despite himself. He entered his jar and within seconds he was already dozy. His jar rocked as he was carried and he was asleep before he knew it, safe in Jack’s arms.