Not thinking, I pressed up on my tip-toes and smashed my mouth back into his, grabbing the back of his neck should he attempt to step back. I encouraged his mouth open with my lips, pressing my body against his with such force I imagined myself melting into him. The instant he responded, I pulled away. I wasn’t sure who it’d been harder on.
His eyes were still closed as he smiled. “You’re cruel, you know that?”
I was too preoccupied forcing my body to settle down to respond.
“How do you expect me to leave you after that?” His eyes were wide, pupils dilated. It didn’t seem possible my lack of experience in every form of male intimacy could expunge such a reaction from the man before me, but I was thanking my lucky stars it did.
“Just in case you needed a little incentive to return tonight,” I replied, sounding as breathless as I felt.
“I see your sensibilities haven’t improved any while I was gone.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, not taking my eyes from him for one blink. The precious days I had him in front of me were not going to be wasted.
“Your sensibilities regarding how there’s nothing that could or would keep me from you,” he said, as if this was as obvious as the world is round. “As long as you want me, I’ll always come back,” he vowed, reaching for me. “No matter how long they try to keep us apart.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, hoping I wouldn’t be waiting long.
“Bring a swimsuit.” He winked before gliding down the front porch stairs.
“Why?” I asked, turning to watch him.
He stopped, turning to face me—mischief was sparking like a flare over his face. “Actually, don’t. You won’t need one, it will be a perfect night for skinny-dipping.”
I swallowed back the heat rising up my throat imagining the two of us with nothing but a coat of water separating our bodies. “It seems tramping around Africa for a month didn’t improve your sensibilities, either,” I said, trying to sound calm.
“Or maybe it did,” he said, his face losing the mischief and growing serious. “Maybe I’m the one seeing everything clear, Bryn.”
I knew what he meant. He was referring to the impossible situation we were in. The crossroads before us, at which neither of us would yield and go down the other’s chosen path, so instead we stood at a standstill and waited. I wanted the Council’s blessing, never willing to put him in danger again and he wanted to run away and be with me—nothing more, nothing less.
The truth of the whole thing—the most agonizing bit to it—was this is exactly what I wanted, too. I didn’t care about some stupid Betrothal Ball or an over-the-top Unity ceremony. I would have been blessed beyond one person’s measure just having him, but I knew if we defied the Council, I could never be assured that William wouldn’t be forced to pay for our indignations to the Immortal way. It was a classic Bryn situation, also known as a lose-lose situation. My Mortal vex had followed me into Immortality.
“Hurry back,” I said, unable to respond. I knew he was thinking clearly, but I wouldn’t let his life be threatened. Ever.
His eyes embraced me one last time before he loped across Joseph and Cora’s front lawn, leapt over the fence without breaking stride, and was lost in a blur of colors. My eyes lingered over the spot he’d disappeared, hoping I could conjure him back if I stared long enough. I came to the conclusion conjuring wasn’t my thing by the time fifteen minutes had passed. I sighed and turned to head back into the house. The sooner I was done with Patrick, the sooner I could skinny-dip with William.
CHAPTER TWO
CHOSEN
A sweet voice broke my daydream that had involved water, William, and me sans clothing, bringing me back to the kitchen table and three pairs of eyes pointed at me.
“Done in,” I replied while Cora reached for my dinner plate that sat cold and untouched.
“Did you lose your appetite or something?” Joseph asked, sounding concerned, and rightfully so. Since moving into their house, I’d led the food-scarfing campaign that had become known as “Leave no morsel behind.” It seemed a sacrilege given Cora’s aptitude for putting together meals that Julia Child would have tipped her wine glass at.
Patrick chuckled. “I’d say her appetite has merely swung from food to something else.”
I didn’t bother to dignify his comment with a response, although he was dead on. I’d waited long enough. I’d done my part and spent the afternoon training (mostly sulking) with Patrick and I’d made it through dinner. Surely William would be back from his meeting with the Council and waiting for me somewhere out in the endless acres of the Hayward estate.
“I’m going up to my room for the night,” I said, rising from my chair. I wasn’t able to meet any of their eyes. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“Sweet dreams,” Patrick’s voice gushed with implications.
I continued my journey down the hall and up the stairs, careful to keep my rhythm slow and steady. My feet were desperate to tear at the ground beneath them until I hit Mach 3, but I couldn’t yet.
I shoved open the door to my room, my eyes falling on a piece of paper folded in the shape of a crane. My heart sputtered when I visualized him walking into my room and placing the note on my bed while I was chained to a table of responsibility one floor below. I sprung onto the bed, grabbing up the crane. Unfolding it, I found a map leading to a location I was unfamiliar with, but the directions were clear enough. I’d tear the entire forest up trying to find this place if need be.