Liora stood at the water’s edge and reached for the hem of her shirt. She didn’t rush. Didn’t look away.
He went very still.
“You said a swim,” she reminded him lightly, and pulled her shirt up and over her head, letting it fall carelessly into the sand. Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and slid them down her legs, stepping free of them without hurry.
And she was acutely aware of his gaze tracking every deliberate movement.
She smiled and dove cleanly into the water. The spring embraced her, and she surfaced with a soft laugh, pushing her hair back. “Coming?”
He hadn’t moved from the bank. But his shirt had, and it lay discarded beside the rocks.
Moonlight traced the strong lines of his chest—human, sculpted, warm-toned skin tapering down to where his hips should have been. Instead, his body smoothed into polishedscales, dark and iridescent. The transition was seamless, powerful.
Her gaze dipped automatically.
Human torso, then the beginning of a long, coiled tail. Too bad she couldn’t see anything else. She bit the inside of her cheek, curious in a way she’d never been before. She’d never been up close with something not entirely human. The thought made her pulse quicken, not with fear. With intrigue.
He slid into the water without a splash.
One moment, he was on the shore; the next, he was there cutting through the spring with fluid grace until he was close enough that the water rippled against her shoulders.
Then she felt it.
His tail.
It circled her waist slowly, deliberately. Not trapping, just resting there, warm and firm beneath the surface. She glanced down at it, then back up at him. Still a careful inch of water between their chests.
She arched a brow. “Is this as close as you’re going to get?”
His lips twitched. “I thought you might prefer breathing room.”
She drifted a little closer, testing the boundary herself until her fingertips brushed his sternum. Solid. Warm. Very real.
“Breathing room?” she echoed, feigning confusion. “You carried me over a locked gate. You wrapped me up like a prize catch. But now you’re shy?”
“Shy?” His tail flexed slightly at that word.
“What’s the matter?” she leaned in, voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Scared of a little human?”
His eyes darkened, not offended, but amused. “I could coil tighter,” he said quietly. “If you’re feeling neglected.”
Her pulse jumped at the promise in his tone. “Maybe I am,” she replied, pretending to consider it.
The tail around her waist shifted, sliding just a fraction higher, drawing her a breath closer until the water between them thinned to almost nothing. He didn’t press. But he could have. That was the point.
“Careful what you challenge,” he murmured.
She smiled up at him, entirely unrepentant. “I thought basilisks liked a little danger.”
A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. “Oh,” he said softly, “we do.”
“I’ve never been up close and personal with a monster before,” she smiled. “First time for everything.”
His gaze sharpened at that. “Is that so?”
She could see the faint glow in his eyes, something ancient and coiled beneath the surface. He wasn’t just a man with a tail. He was something older. Stronger.
And entirely aware of her.
