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“A truce,” Kallan repeated, “but not from war. From making assumptions about what the other is thinking. I’ll communicate mine if you communicate yours,” he said in a teasing tone.
Holly bit the inside of her lip as she nodded. This was the common ground she’d been looking for. “Truce,” she agreed softly, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.
As if in a trance, his hand rose to cup her cheek. “Holly,” he breathed.
“Yes?” Her voice came out just as breathy, and she knew her cheeks were red.
“In the spirit of our truce, I have to ask… May I kiss you?”
Holly had barely got the “yes” out of her mouth before his lips covered hers.
She leaned into him, and his other hand rose to her hip, bringing her closer. She expected him to dominate the kiss right away like the warrior he was, but instead, his kiss was soft. He brushed his lips against hers, teasing the seam of her lips with his tongue. She opened to him, but he continued to keep his kiss light and soft. It wasn’t until she groaned and reached her hands up to cup his neck and draw him to her that he kissed her harder. She surrendered to the sensations as he drew her impossibly closer to him and caught her when her knees buckled.
She lost all sense of time and place as he continued to kiss her. He lightened the kiss slowly, drawing back bit by bit until they separated, both of them breathing heavily. She dropped her forehead to his chest as she struggled to get her breathing back under control.Damn.The man could kiss.
“I think this is an excellent ceasefire,” he whispered in her ear.
Her shoulders shook with laughter, and she lifted her chin to look at him. “It’s definitely an amazing start.”
He rubbed her shoulders. “Come on, let’s finish with the firewood. The others should be back soon.”
There was an easiness between them now, and Holly almost felt like she was walking on air as they walked back to the cave and got the fire started.
Kallan used his air magic to dissipate the smoke before it rose too high in the sky. Before too long, Kieran and Synora appeared from the woods. Kieran carried two small quail, and Synora carried a few rolled-up leaves. She opened them on a flat stone by the fire, revealing various berries and nuts that she ground up into a paste and smeared on the quail that Kieran and Kallan had skinned.
The four of them worked with an easy camaraderie, and for the first time, Holly could see this working. She could see them years from now preparing dinner around a fire or in a kitchen, working with an easy cadence filled with soft looks and stolen touches. Kieran was first to notice the stolen touches between her and Kallan, and his usual grin got even wider. He started whistling an old Realm ballad, and Synora joined in, singing the words with her smoky voice. Although her voice was rusty, Holly joined in too. She stumbled over the occasional word, but when she did, Synora was there to back her up.
While the quail was roasting over the fire, Synora caught Holly’s hands in hers and started to dance around the firepit with her. Kallan kept the beat for them, clapping his hands along with the rhythm. Kieran surprised Holly by pulling a small flute out of his jacket and joining in. The sweet sounds of the flute joined Synora’s and Holly’s voices and they sang and danced while the sun disappeared over the top of the forest. The ballad ended, and Synora and Holly broke apart, giggling.
“Come on, dancers,” Kieran said. “Let’s eat.”
The quail was nice and juicy, and the flavors from the berries and nuts exploded on Holly’s tongue.
“Synora, this is really good,” she said, around her mouthful of food.
The Elf had the slightest bit of red dusting her cheekbones as Kallan and Kieran agreed with Holly, voicing their praise aloud.
“One of my fathers was quite the cook,” Synora said, sadness flashing behind her eyes. “He was always in the kitchen experimenting with some recipe or another.”
Holly reached over and softly squeezed her arm. Claire had told her Synora’s family died in the Great War. Synora briefly covered Holly’s hand with her own before going back to her food. “My family died in the Great War,” Synora told Kallan and Kieran.
Kieran smiled, but it was a sad smile. “Ours too. Claire and Prince Erick are the only ones we have left.”
“Death is part of life,” Kallan said wisely. “Without it, we don’t know what it means to truly live.”
Holly tilted her head as she thought about his words. What a beautiful way to look at it. “I’m sorry you all suffered so much from the war,” she said softly.
“It’s okay,” Synora said. “I’ve made my peace with it.” Something about her words felt false, and when Holly looked at Kieran, he nodded almost imperceptibly. Synora wasn’t as at peace with it as she seemed. Holly would have to keep a close eye on her Elven mate and maybe help her heal.
“Besides,” Synora said, “now we have an opportunity to help set things right in the Realm. And I don’t know about you,” she addressed to Kallan and Kieran, “but this is helping me heal more than anything.”
“I don’t think I’ve thought about it that way,” Kieran said, “but you’re right. We get to help right the wrongs of the war.”
They all nodded, and Holly stared into the fire, lost in thought. She was more determined than ever to find these ingredients and the right-hand person now. Not only to help Claire, but now also to help her mates heal.
“Probably time to turn in,” Kallan said, rising from his seat. “We’ll want to get an early start tomorrow.”
Synora rose with him. “I can take the first watch.”
