Felix stiffened beside her.
“Absolutely not,” Felix said.
“No!” Avery snapped out of her shock. They looked at each other, then back to the tree. “There must be something else we can do.”
The tree shook its head, a few leaves falling off its branches to the ground. “I’m afraid not. The tree wants what the tree wants.” It let out a mournful sigh, as if the pair had made it sad. Why did it want them to kiss? That seemed like the very opposite of breaking the bond.
Felix finally let go of her. Her hand dropped, immediately missing the contact as soon as it left. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Avery couldn’t help but notice the way they strained against his shadowy T-shirt. As far as shifters went, he wasn’t terrible-looking.
She supposed a kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world, especially if the goddess or some other strange entity that had taken over this tree wanted it—then it had to mean something, right? She couldn’t tell if it was her horny prehistoric brain doing the rationalizing.
“We’re not doing that.” His tail swished once before it curled itself around her leg. Felix didn’t notice, but the tree’s eyes felltoward the movement, and then back up, its smile creaking wider.
“I don’t take orders from a talking tree,” he said.
“If you do not kiss, then you will stay as you are, stagnant, and possibly six feet under, who’s to say?” the tree said.
Felix growled, the rumble in his chest vibrating against her chest, as his cat ears flattened against his head. “Are you threatening us?”
The tree made a roaring laugh. “It is up to you to determine your fate, shifter. I am merely the messenger.”
Felix’s jaw set hard, lost in thought. He wasn’t seriously considering this, was he? Warmth crept up Avery’s neck, replacing the gnawing cold along with a knot twisting in her stomach that wound tighter with each passing second.
“Fine.” He turned toward Avery, and she did everything in her power not to let out a squeal. She felt like a wounded deer, stalked by a hunter when his mismatched eyes looked into her own. This was not happening. She wasn’t about to kiss a shifter because a tree told her to? Was she?
“Let’s get this over with,” he bit out.
She was.
Her mouth said something different, though. “What? No?—”
“Would you rather stay bonded forever, witch?” His voice was strained. Like he was holding back.
Avery swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly in dire need of a jug of water. She had doubts that something as simple as a kiss beneath a tree would break the bond. It was worth a try.
“I suppose not.”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t been kissed before, or done much more filthy things than that. But for some reason, being in front of the shifter made her feel entirely inexperienced. It occurred to her she didn’t even know how old he was. He didn’t look younger than her, and he certainly wasn’t graying.
“How old are you?” she blurted out awkwardly.
The question took him back for a second. “Thirty.”
She breathed out a sigh of relief, as if somehow that made kissing him any better.
They stood there only for a moment, looking at each other. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, droplets catching along Felix’s dark hair, one particularly stubborn drop falling on his long eyelashes. His eyes suddenly formed into slits, making him look more catlike than ever before. His gaze dropped to her lips, his ears standing at full attention toward her.
Avery felt her heart skip.
Slowly, gently, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look at him. It was a ghost of when they had first met, yet the first time had been much more violent.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said. His voice was a steadying beat amidst the wind that seemed to intensify by the second. The scent of him surrounded her, calming her frenzied heart more than it should.
“Obviously,” she choked out.
Felix leaned in, hesitating. His warm breath fanned her face, thawing the frigid skin. His lips were only inches away. Avery squirmed, trying to keep her arms by her side.
“Stay still, witch,” he quietly commanded.
