Page 142 of In Violent Waves

He nodded then. “Like we were in yours.” Wilder threw the fish into a pan that rested atop a flame.

“I have seen nothing of the sort from the elves.”

Wilder snorted. “We’re far from perfect, and you would have quickly realized that had we gone on an actual tour.”

“I suppose even the humans could say that, too. Everyone has their issues.”

“Very wise, Princess,” Wilder replied with a smile. “What have you read about the humans?”

“Not much. But my experiences with them were terrifying.”

He ran a hand down her spine before pulling her to him and pressing a kiss to her head. “I am sorry for that.”

“You saved me.”

“You were only there because of me. Not all humans are that way from my experiences, but from what I have heard about Badenvaria—well, you never want to go there. No creature leaves there.”

She nestled into his side and breathed in his familiar scent.

A small part of her wished they could stay here—like this forever.

It was the closest she had ever felt to being home.

The next few days passed in a blur of long morning walks along the surf, late afternoon dips in the ocean, and evening dinners of fish and whatever vegetables they could find in the untended garden.

They moved between the cottage, garden, and sea. Not to mention between each other. Lyra knew the truce was coming to an end, but she didn’t want to think about that or what it meant for them.

It was their last night in the cottage before the servant would arrive to take them back to the castle. And it was bittersweet. Neither of them could admit that they had no real desire to goback. Including Lyra, who had been most excited to celebrate her first holiday.

Wilder was bent over the wood stove, their evening catch frying in the cast-iron skillet. Lyra felt utterly at peace while she arranged the kale into some semblance of a salad. Her breath came easy and her heart felt full.

“What is that song you’re humming?” His voice tugged her lips up before his words resonated.

Lyra turned towards him, a question on her lips.

“You didn’t realize you were humming, did you?”

She couldn’t remember a time she had ever hummed on purpose in Atlantis. Wilder flipped the fish over and chuckled.

“You’ve been singing since we left the ancient willow.”

Lyra frowned and shrugged. “I didn’t realize I was, and couldn’t even tell you what the song is.”

“It’s lovely,” he murmured.

“Thank you.” Her cheeks burned under his praise, and she tried her best to tamp it down.

“Did you not sing before because of your magic?”

Lyra studied the kale in front of her to keep from recoiling from his words. Her magic. That was the last thing she wanted to discuss, and she could feel it stronger now, the thread more like a corded rope around her heart.

“Yes.”

“And now?” he asked with a quizzical raise of his brow. She could tell he wanted to discuss it further, but she couldn’t find it in her to open that box.

“The magic feels different.”

“How so?”