Page 43 of Dryad’s Treasure

I raised my hand, ready to knock when the door opened, Martin standing on the other side, a look of utter relief softening his facial features. “Gray.” I’d never heard that amount of emotion tied to my name.

“In the flesh,” I answered with a happy grin. “And I come bearing buzzweed gifts.” I held up my palm, showing off the three Henry had retrieved.

“Amazing how you already know exactly what to get me,” Martin teased, making me laugh. “Come on in. Keir and I were just finishing up.”

I hesitated. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting?”

Keir answered from deeper within the room. “Not at all.”

Taking their word for it, I stepped into the room. My nose was immediately assaulted with the delicious scent of pasta and garlic. Turning to Martin, my grin widened. “And it seems you know exactly what to get me. I love Italian.”

Martin chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s not my doing, but Keir’s.”

“It’s one of the few dishes Martin and I can agree on. I can always add some meatballs to my sauce while keeping his vegetarian,” Keir answered. “What about you, Grayson? I confess I’m uncertain what will-o’-the-wisps typically eat.”

“I’m not all that picky,” I said while walking further into the room. “What you’ve got cooking smells amazing.” I was so hungry I probably would have eaten about anything at this point. It seemed rude to say something like that, so I simply held up the hand with the buzzweeds and asked, “What do you want me to do with these?”

Keir stared at the buzzweeds as if they might fly out of my hand and attack him. “That far corner will do. I’m not sure if it matters, but I’d like them as far away from the wyvern eggs as possible.”

“Understood.” I walked to the corner, easing my burden onto a shelf. Once they were safely deposited, I vigorously rubbed my palm on my pants. I hadn’t realized just how sweaty my hand was until that moment.

“Glad to be rid of them?” Martin asked from over my shoulder. His arms wrapped around my middle and pulled me tighter. His lips pressed against the crown of my head, and I heard him deeply inhale. “I missed you.”

My heart thudded, my own magic happily embracing Martin’s spark. “I missed you too. That seems silly. We were only apart about four hours. Five at the most.”

“Too long,” Martin hummed while rubbing his cheek against my head like a cat. “Will you…will you stay with me tonight?”

Twisting in his arms, I clasped my hands behind his neck, going up on tiptoe so I could get closer to this dryad that had captured my heart. “I planned on it. Good thing you feel the same.”

“A very good thing,” Martin agreed before gently touching his lips to mine. The kiss was brief, just a fleeting pressure and little more, and yet it felt more intimate than it should have.

“Food’s ready,” Keir called from his kitchen, making my stomach growl again.

Martin chuckled. “Come on, we better go feed the beast in your belly.”

I patted my stomach. “It does seem rather demanding right now.”

Martin grabbed my hand, interlacing our fingers and squeezing tight. We headed to the kitchen that way, and if Keir’s grin was anything to go by, he was pleased with the recent development.

We were sipping tea and resting in our combined food comas when Keir’s phone rang. If I had to guess, whoever was on the other end made keeping his recent meal in place difficult for Keir.

Martin noticed too and tensed beside me, a quiet, “is it him?” slipping through his tight lips.

Keir nodded before hitting the accept button and answering, “This is Keir.”

“Who is it?” I leaned toward Martin and whispered.

“Lazarus Azure,” Martin answered just as quietly, a kind of awed reverence attached to a name that told me nothing.

“Who?” I asked again.

“Wyvern.”

“Oh.” Oh? That was all I could come up with? Not that I could think of a single other word to attach to that insignificant statement. My gaze landed on the wyvern eggs sitting on Keir’s coffee table within their blanket nest. The electric cord leading to the bottom blanket was still in place. The little light indicating the blanket was on glowed a warm yellow. The eggs sparkled, blissfully unaware of the repercussions regarding their presence. That was as it should be. The eggs were innocent.

Keir stood and walked toward the kitchen. His voice remained low, and I couldn’t make out his words. “What do you think he’s saying?” I asked Martin.

“I’m not sure. I’d guess a lot of apologies, but beyond that, I don’t know. Keir is the steadiest, most levelheaded individual I’ve ever met. He knows the stakes better than any of us.”