“Which means,” I push on, “I want to settle up. For the room, the food, everything. And as I said, I have a few vacation days leftafter the retreat. I can come back and work them off and this way—”
“No.” Bram. Soft. “You don’t owe us anything.”
“Bram’s right.” Ash leans in, close, his cedar deepening. “We wouldn’t dream of charging you, Luna.”
My face goes hot at both his physical and olfactory proximity.
“Right,” I mutter. “Well... Thank you.”
I chew. Swallow. Force myself to look up again. All three of them, still watching me.
“So.” Casual. I cut a strip of chicken. “What were you guys up to today? You all kind of disappeared this morning.”
Reed’s mouth twitches into a slow, wicked smirk. He shares a brief glance with Bram, who only lifts an eyebrow.
“Oh, you know.” Ash reaches out and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear, the brush sending a shiver straight down my spine. “Business.”
“Cryptic.”
“Always.” Reed’s gaze drops to my mouth.
I swallow hard. They are so close, all three of them, their scents weaving into something I’m not going to be able to undo, and I wonder if eighteen-ish hours won’t be too long for us to keep our hands to ourselves.
“So.” Reed leans back, that lopsided grin sliding into place. “What’re you doing tonight, VP?”
I lower the glass slowly. “Sleep?”
“We’re heading into town for a drink. Maggie’s. You should come.”
“I—” I look at the three of them. Bram’s watching me, steady. Ash has the half-smile back. Reed waits. “I leave tomorrow morning, guys.”
“All the more reason,” Reed says, leaning in. “This is your last day in the real world. Tomorrow you ascend. We can’t send you off without buying a drink first.”
My brain tries to hold onto the checklist:Pack bags. Sleep. Leave at dawn.
But their mere presence is doing something wicked to me.
“You know what, why not.” I say, smiling.
13
Luna
“So, how many people actually live here?” I ask, watching my step on the uneven cobblestones. “Because I’m getting strong medieval-village vibes. Do I need to keep an eye out for plague carts?”
A short, sharp bark of a laugh punches out of Reed. “Honeycreek Hollow’s population? Maybe seven thousand if you count the livestock.”
A low, wet creak echoes from around the bend. When the road straightens, I see a massive wooden water wheel, slick with green moss, groaning as it turns in the rush of the creek.
“And I should add,” Ash says, falling into step beside me, the wool of his sleeve brushing my bare arm. “This is technically a small town, not a village.”
Overhead, the iron streetlamps flicker on, casting yellow circles over the stones. We reach a low arched bridge.
“Lakeview has about eighteen thousand,” I say, stepping onto it. The damp air coming off the creek is cool, but Ash is walking close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, Reed asteady presence on my other side. “Which until this evening I would have described assmall.”
Bram, who’s walking just ahead, glances over his shoulder. “Lakeview? Never been, but I heard they throw a hell of a baking festival.”
“I love Lakeview,” Ash says, his half-smile ticking up. “I went there a while back. Supposedly there was this massive scandal with a baker who claimed to be a beta, but was actually an omega? I stopped in to try her pastries before leaving town. Never had anything better in my life.”
