And froze.
Had she been carrying the berry pan, she might’ve dropped it.
Nic was sitting in the middle of a clover patch, and Helen was in his lap. Thick trees and bramble walled them into a hidden glade, the kind she would never notice unless she was looking. One of the bushes had clearly been cut to make a path through.
Nic’s shirt hung open, his waistcoat discarded in the grass. One arm wrapped tight around Helen’s back. The other... beneath her crumpled skirts.
Helen’s bodice was loose, the fabric bunched at her waist. Her head tilted back, eyes closed, lips parted. Her hands moved slowly through his hair. Nic murmured something, low and raw, as he leaned into her.
Dragonfly caught it all in a single stunned glance.
She gasped.
Helen’s eyes flew open. Their gazes locked—one stunned, the other stricken. Helen gave a small cry and turned, burying her face in Nic’s shoulder.
“Damn!” Nic immediately withdrew his hand as though he had touched a hot stove. He yanked Helen’s skirt down to cover her bare thighs. He fumbled frantically with her chemise, tugging it up her back in a desperate attempt to shield her.
Dragonfly stumbled back, heart pounding. Her skirt snagged on a bramble, and she let out a startled yelp. Then her foot caught on a root—and she fell, hard, onto the damp forest floor. The sting in her palms barely registered. All she could feel was the thrum of humiliation and the desperate need to get away.
She scrambled to push herself upright—but before she could, Nic was there. His arm slid around her, and he lifted her easily to her feet.
She jerked away from his touch.
She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t.
Her face burned. But why shouldshebe the one blushing? She wasn’t the one caught in the middle of a hidden glade with her clothes half-undone. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
So why did it feel like she had?
“Are you alright?” Nic’s voice was too soft, too careful. He kept hold of her arm, his face flushed bright red.
Dragonfly blinked.Nic? Blushing?
In all the years she’d known him, she’d never once seen him look ashamed. Teasing, smug, infuriating—but neverthis. For a moment, that stunned her even more than what she’d seen behind the bushes.
Maybe getting caught had finally shaken some sense into him. But even now, with color rising to his cheeks, there was still that glint in his hazel eyes—a flicker of mischief that made her doubt the depth of his remorse.
She tried to pull away. “Let go! I’m fine.”
He didn’t release her. Instead, he caught her hand and turned it over, exposing her scraped palm. “You’re not fine.”
“I said I’m fine.” She yanked her hand free and brushed it off herself. The sting was nothing compared to the heat rising in her face. She glared up at him—
And that’s when she saw it, a red mark just below his collarbone. Obvious. Brazen.
Her face went even hotter.
Nic fumbled with his buttons, covering the mark with an awkward shrug. “I was walking her home,” he said, too casually, “and we decided to take a slight detour.”
“Adetour?” Her voice cut sharper than she intended. “I don’t care what the two of you were doing. I just hope you didn’t leave a mark where her father canseeit.”
That wiped the smirk off his face. He went pale.
Good. Let him panic a little.
He glanced toward the bushes, then back at her, clearly trying to hold onto that cocky mask—but it was slipping. There was a flicker of dread beneath the charm. Still, he tried. “I was thinking of going to see Collin and Aries later. Want to come?”
The question landed with a dull thud. She must’ve fallen harder than she thought—her wrist was starting to ache, and her knees throbbed with bruises. But the real soreness was deeper, tangled up in the humiliation still clinging to her like nettles.
