Page 128 of In Violent Waves

Wilder’s brow arched nearly into his hairline.

“Legs?”

She gazed at him, and her brow furrowed. “Yes?”

“Are you ticklish?”

Lyra stared and stared. She didn’t know that word, but didn’t like the sound of it either.

“What is ‘ticklish’?”

Wilder’s grin turned wolfish, and he waggled his long fingers against her toes.

Lyra squealed and ripped her feet from his reach and tucked them underneath her.

“Don’t do that!” She laughed and tried to hide her limbs under the layers of her skirt.

He was upon her with a boyish smile that made him look much younger. He prodded her ribs with light fingertips, and she laughed raucously.

She had fallen against the quilts, and he straddled her. She squirmed beneath him, and his eyes turned molten with delight.

“Have you lost your mind?” she squealed.

Tears slipped from her eyes, and his laugh boomed from his chest and intertwined with hers.

Luckily, he didn’t torture her for long and stopped his incessant tickling so that she could catch her breath. Her laughter trilled around them long after she had stopped.

He gazed down at her. Their breaths mingled in the space between them, and when she glanced at his lips, she wondered what they might taste like.

Wilder leaned forward, and Lyra raised her chin as he lowered his.

Their faces inched closer and closer. And she wanted to kiss him. She wanted him, and that terrified her.

This was only a temporary truce.

When Wilder’s eyes closed, Lyra flicked his nose.

His eyes flashed open, and she smiled so widely at him that her nose scrunched up.

“Did you flick me?”

Lyra slid out from beneath him and grinned.

“I did.” She put her hands on her hips. “And what are you going to do about it?” she teased.

Wilder got to his feet and flashed her a mischievous smile.

“I’m going to hold you down and tickle you until you can’t breathe,” he vowed.

Lyra dashed out of the branches of the ancient willow.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

Wilder watched as she streaked through branches and the tall, verdant grasses. It was like a dream.

He could feel this memory etching itself into his mind.

Flashes of golden light and auburn hair. She had left her mark here, and the land would remember her forever, as would he.