Page 86 of Fae Tithe

“Sweetheart, it is not about being even. It is about understanding why each of us is upset and trying not to do it again,” he whispered. “We are allowed to be disappointed, even angry, with each other. It’s important to know why we feel that way, though, so we can try not to do it to each other again in the future.” Helena nodded her face in his comforting hands. “Conflict isn’t necessarily bad. What is bad is never talking about it, or letting anger and resentment build about a situation.”

“So, what do we do now?” she asked quietly, relief beginning to uncoil the tight knot in her chest.

“We can agree to forgive each other?” Lance offered with a murmur. “If we need further clarification on what happened, then it is okay if we need to talk more. We can also make a promise to try our best not to do this to each other again. Neither of us will lie to each other, and we won’t make big decisions that affect us both without talking to one another first?”

“Yes,” Helena answered, nodding into his hands. “I agree.”

Lance beamed down at her and stepped into the falling water, soaking his clothes, plastering the fabric to his chest. Helena ogled her Merman’s toned body beneath the material, the planes of his chest cut firm in the dim light. She cast a glance over to Eleanor. Her daughter was still sleeping peacefully by the fire, tucked into the massive Seelie Stallion’s side.

“Just one kiss, alright?” she asked. “In case El wakes up.”

“Of course,” Lance replied.

The High Prince lowered his head, so his lips met Helena’s. He was soft with her, as he had been constantly since her injuries. She surged back against him, ignoring the sting of her skin as she opened her lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth. Lance kept his hands on either side of her face, brushing his thumbs gently over her cheeks, as he pressed his body into hers. She eagerly ran her tongue against his and explored the pointed teeth of his mouth. She loved them. Lance nibbled at her lips, building the heat of their kiss. Helena finally broke away, panting, her skin rosy with desire. Her Merman looked flushed too as he took deep breaths, forehead pressed against hers.

“Okay. Now I have to actually wash,” Helena giggled, lathering up more bubbles from the bar of soap.

“If you must.” Lance kissed the top of her wet waves before stepping back from the water.

She finished her bathing, and the Merman ceased the falling of water from above her. He handed her a scrap of fabric to dry herself with, as water puddled at her feet and drained away into the grass. Lance then passed Helena the clothes she had originally worn when they left Portson. She slipped them on in the privacy of the improvised washroom.

She stepped past him, and he lowered his face to her ear. “The contraband comb is in your saddlebag,” he whispered playfully, lips brushing her skin.

He straightened himself before peeling off his soaked shirt. Helena stifled a giggle and stared at him. His golden-brown skin was glowing in the cosy light of the campfire.

“What are you looking at?” he teased with a wink

“Oh, nothing…” She grinned back.

She turned from Lance, making her way to the fire, and found her seat in the soft grass nearby. Helena rifled through her saddlebag, found the pilfered comb, and began to work it through her wet, tangled hair.

She touched into her mind. Atlas?

I gave you privacy, the Dragon said sheepishly. I think there is a way I can give you more, next time you need it. That is when I rest, like before, and you could not hear me.

I appreciate you figuring that out, Helena replied, as she tugged at a particularly tough knot. I was actually reaching for you because I wanted to apologise. Lance and I do sometimes need it to be just us. We might need to talk, or we may do other things. I shouldn’t have snapped at you though, so I am sorry for that.

I accept your apology. Atlas purred. He paused for a moment before continuing. What other things besides arguing would you need privacy for?

Helena felt her cheeks burn. We will talk about that another time, okay?

She had been so engrossed in her conversation with the Dragon that she had not noticed that Lance had taken down their washroom. He had spread the damp cloaks on the grass next to her, before finding a spot on them. He was shirtless, lying on his side, his head supported by his hand as he looked up at Helena.

“Were you talking to your Dragon?” he asked.

She scooted herself over and lay down next to him, flat on her back. “I was,” she admitted. “I think he might like you a bit too much. Atlas doesn’t want me to argue with you. I feel like I’m being ganged up on.”

I do like the Siren, Atlas confirmed enthusiastically.

Atlas, please shush! I can’t speak to both of you at the same time, my mind will break.

The Dragon rumble-laughed in her head, but said nothing else.

Lance sucked in a breath through his teeth, “He heard all of that, didn’t he?” A flush passed over his cheeks.

“Yes, he hears everything.” She chuckled weakly. “I think he may have figured out a way to give us more privacy if we need it. He can sort of… sleep… inside my head. I’m still trying to understand it myself.”

“That’s reasonable. I have never heard of anything like this before, either.” Lance rolled onto his back and reached his hand to hers. The Merman laced his fingers through her black-scaled ones, her new claws gently digging into his skin. “If you like, when I eventually get back to my court, I can see if there is anything about Dragons and Changelings in the library.”