He reached out, his fingers brushed a strand of wet hair from my face. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the water temperature.
"Winter," his voice had dropped to a low murmur. "I'm not very good at following rules. Never have been. Probably why Fenric is constantly filing reports about me."
"What rule are you thinking of breaking now?" My heart was pounding.
He smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips. "The one about maintaining professional distance from the prophet I'm supposed to be protecting."
He was close enough now that I could feel his breath on my skin. The world seemed to narrow to just this moment, just us, suspended in time.
"That sounds like a serious violation," I wasn't pulling away.
"Catastrophic," his gaze dropped to my lips. "Fenric would have a fit."
"We wouldn't want that," I leaned in slightly, drawn to him like a magnet.
"Definitely not." His hand came up to cup my cheek, warm despite the water.
The distance between us shrank to nothing. His lips were a breath away from mine, the moment balanced on a knife's edge of anticipation.
And then the door burst open with a bang.
"GUYS! GUYS! I CAN BREATHE UNDERWATER NOW!" Milo's excited voice shattered the moment as he cannonballed into the small pool, sending a tidal wave of water over both of us.
I sputtered, blinking water from my eyes as Milo resurfaced, his curly hair plastered to his head and a look of pure joy on his face.
"Did you see that?" He was so excited, oblivious to what he'd interrupted. "I held my breath for like, thirty seconds! It must be the relaxation elixir! I feel AMAZING!"
I couldn't help it, the absurdity of the situation, the look of stunned disbelief on Zane's face, the pure enthusiasm radiatingfrom Milo, it all bubbled up inside me until I burst out laughing. Not just a chuckle, but full-bodied, uncontrollable laughter that bent me double and brought tears to my eyes.
Zane stared at me for a moment, then his expression cracked, and he joined in, his deep laugh harmonizing with mine.
Milo looked between us, confused but delighted. "What's so funny? Did I miss something?"
"Nothing, Milo," I managed between gasps for air. "You're just perfectly timed, as always."
"Oh! Good!" He beamed, then ducked underwater again to demonstrate his new skill.
I caught Zane's eye over Milo's submerged form, and something passed between us, amusement, yes, but also a promise. A rain check, perhaps. The moment had been interrupted, but not lost entirely.
Chapter
Eleven
Zane
By the time we returned to Winter's apartment that evening, I couldn't help noticing how the relaxation treatment had affected everyone. My muscles felt pleasantly loose, my usual vigilance dialed down to a manageable hum rather than the constant roar I'd lived with for centuries. Even Fenric, who'd spent the entire ride back furiously typing on his tablet, seemed less uptight than usual, his shoulders had dropped a full inch from their usual position near his ears.
Rook was the biggest surprise. When Milo's skeletons performed their impromptu water ballet in the parking lot, complete with synchronized twirls and a finale that involved them balancing atop each other's shoulders, Rook smiled. It was brief, there and gone in an instant, but that momentary transformation of his perpetually scowling face was so startling I nearly tripped watching it.
"Unprecedented," I murmured to myself, catching Winter's eye across the room. She'd noticed it too, her gray eyes dancing with amusement.
As everyone settled into their evening routines, Fenric meticulously arranged his incident reports into color-coded folders, blues for magical disturbances, yellows for procedural violations, and an alarmingly thick red one that I suspected had my name emblazoned on it. Milo hovered over his miniature companions, tenderly coaxing each damp skeleton into tiny bathrobes he'd crocheted himself, complete with individual monograms and little hood ornaments that matched each skeleton's "personality." Meanwhile, Rook prowled the apartment's perimeter with the focused intensity of someone expecting assassins to rappel through the windows at any moment, checking locks twice and pausing at each corner to scent the air.
I caught Winter's eye and nodded meaningfully toward the small balcony off the living room. The gesture was slight, but after centuries of existence, I'd perfected the art of silent communication. Winter caught my meaning immediately, her gray eyes sparking with curiosity as she abandoned her mug of tea on the coffee table. Following me outside, I slid the glass door closed behind us with a soft click, the sounds of domestic chaos muffling as the cool evening air embraced us like an old friend.
The night air felt crisp after the humid warmth of the spa. I watched as goosebumps rose on Winter's arms, her soft skin prickling against the chill. Without thinking, I shrugged off my jacket and draped it around her shoulders, my fingers lingering perhaps a moment longer than necessary.
"Thanks." She pulled it closer around herself.
