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A breath shuddered from his lungs, emotion pricking behind his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight in his embrace, tucking her head beneath his chin until no space remained between them. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. He kissed the top of her head once. Then again.
But realized his mistake when she froze against him.
“Sorry,” he said as he pushed himself away and wiped his eyes. “I’m just happy and relieved.”
“No, no. Don’t be sorry.” Now he froze when she trailed a thumb across his cheek. A rosy hue filled her face, her blue eyes sparkling with hesitancy. When she met his gaze, his heart tumbled out of his ribcage at the visible change within her. Unburdened happiness radiated from her expression as if the weights chaining her to the floor turned into bubbles and floated away with the wind.
Joy burst within him to witness the change. She deserved happiness more than anyone.
His body stilled entirely when her finger trailed down his cheek and lightly skimmed his lips. He dared not breathe, afraid the faintest exhale would blow away her touch.
What are you doing, Nyana?
Heat flushed through his body when her finger grazed his beard, his neck, and then his chest. Fire scorched his skin when she unfastened the top button of his shirt, and then the next. He wanted to pull her into his arms and find out what her lips tasted like. To dig his fingers through her hair and kiss every inch of her skin. But he refrained, barely managing to keep his hands glued to the floor.
“It’s gone,” she said suddenly, breaking him out of his stupor. Confusion creased his brows, at least until he followed her gaze to the bolt wound on his right shoulder. In the place of scabbed, torn skin was a light, silvery scar with now-unnecessary stitches. “Well, mostly gone. I think that’s a scar worth keeping, don’t you?”
He exhaled a deep breath, releasing a torrent of steam from his nostrils. Her touch was a delicious poison—one he wished to devour despite knowing how much it might hurt him.
“I don’t know,” he finally croaked as he stood to put distance between them. At least until his blood no longer boiled with desire. “I would rather not relive those horrid memories every time I see the scar.”
She opened her mouth as if to reply, but before a word escaped, a couple pairs of feet thumped down the stairs, followed by heads of auburn and blonde hair. Each of the girls crashed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet with their embrace. He picked Eva up, and she whispered in his ear, speaking for the second time since he’d become her father.
“I saw a silber titten outside.”
“Kitten?” he asked, but she shook her head. “Chicken?” he tried again, and this time she nodded enthusiastically. A grin spread across his face as he playfully tapped the tip of her nose, her green eyes crossing as she followed the movement. She was the most adorable little girl he’d ever seen, and he was so happy she was his. “I’ve never seen a silver chicken before. Why don’t you tell your mother what else you saw?”
Eva dropped to the ground and ran over to Nyana next, whispering in her ear. Nyana’s expression crumpled, her eyes watering at what must have been the first time she’d heard Eva’s voice in a very long time.
Turning his back to them to hide his smile, he grabbed a cloth from beside the oven. “This calls for a celebration! I’ll make breakfast.”
“You will do no such thing.” From behind him, Nyana snatched the cloth away and playfully swatted his shoulder with it. “You would burn this entire tree down in your attempt.”
“Fine,” he laughed. “Then I will go check on Sunweave. Make sure these Forest Fae didn’t grind up his bones to use as masks.”
Maisy’s cheery expression melted into horror as she stared back at him with wide eyes. “Uncle Bastien will grind up Sunweave’s bones?”
“Joel.” Nyana sighed quietly, running a hand down her face.
“No, no, no,” he attempted to rectify, grimacing at his slip-up. “Of course not. It was a bad joke. They love horses.”
The worry remained in her eyes. “Can I come with you? I have to make sure they don’t grind up his bones. What if they put it in their soup?”
Across the room, Nyana gave him a stern look, and he winced. He’d have to watch his mouth around the children. “You can come with me. But stay close. And Sunweave is just fine. I promise.”
He helped Maisy into a coat and buttoned it up before glancing over his shoulder at Nyana. A soft smile lingered on her lips as she held a wooden bowl and spoon in her arms, though she quickly glanced away.
Maisy slipped her hand into his as they exited the tree house. Despite her previous worry, she began humming and skipping alongside him, each of her frosty breaths escaping as a cloud of fog in front of her face.
Snow crunched beneath their boots, the cold stinging their cheeks pink. They passed white-haired Forest Fae, who stared at them, many with hostile or concerned expressions. Some even darted back into their homes and closed the shutters. He walked closer to Maisy. Just in case.
What would Nyana’s life have been like if she’d been allowed to live in the forest? Would she have been happy here?
The sight of the stables abruptly cut off his thoughts. Maisy gasped, released his hand, and darted inside. He hurried after her, only to find her standing on one of the stable doors, her arms around Sunweave’s neck. The horse nickered in protest, flicking his tail at her. But otherwise, he allowed the embrace.
“I was so worried that Bastien turned you into stew!” Maisy cried into his mane.
“Who turned who into stew?” a voice asked from the doorway, and Joel turned to find Bastien leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest while a smile pulled up on the corners of his mouth.
