Page 81 of Dryad’s Treasure

I shook my head. “There’ll be no kicking out.”

“Good. Then it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Relief flooded me, making my body shake. Still, I held firm, refusing to let Gray go. He was mine. He’d declared it, and I was going to take him at his word. That didn’t mean all my doubts would magically drift away. My insecurity would no doubt rear its ugly head again. I could only hope Gray would be patient enough to calm my unsubstantiated fears in the future.

Gray’s soft lips peppered kisses along my cheek, warming and flushing my skin. “I miss having a piece of your magic inside me. I miss Little Marty.” Gray teased.

“Please don’t call my shared magic that again.” Little Marty. “Especially in front of Henry.”

“No promises.” Gray winked before he leaned in and whispered, his breath soft against my skin. “I never knew what I was missing by not having an anchor. If every will-o’-the-wisp knew what it felt like, they’d search high and low to find someone worthy of the title.”

Joy lit me up from the inside, pushing aside my relief and filling me with something even more pleasant. “Do you still need an anchor?”

“Oh yes, I need my anchor very much.” One edge of Gray’s lips tilted up into a devilish smirk. “I need him very much,” he added as his palm traced down my body, finding my groin and stiffening cock. “Hmm…yes, I think I need Big Marty very much.”

I belched out a noise that sounded half crazed laughter and half disbelief. “You did not just say that.”

“Oh, I most certainly did. But before I can enjoy the pleasures Big Marty has to offer, I want Little Marty back inside me.” Gray patted his chest for emphasis. “I miss you. I miss carrying a piece of you with me all the time. I miss knowing how you’re feeling and knowing where you are all the time, that I can find you no matter how far away I roam, that you will always be there calling me home.”

I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more. “I miss being able to call you home.”

Gray pulled away but kept our hands linked. “Well, then, let’s rectify that situation.”

“Yes, please” was all I could think to say.

Gray’s smile and shimmering eyes were pure happiness and bliss. I watched as those beautiful pale blue eyes warmed behind fluttering lashes. The gentle tug as a piece of my magic broke away, traveling down my arm and through my palm, was a welcome relief. That relief was magnified a thousandfold when I felt Gray’s magic slip through my opposite palm.

My magic rushed to greet it, welcoming Gray’s, fawning over it like a long-lost lover. My magic wasn’t wrong. Feeling Gray’s magic back inside me, where it belonged, was everything.

Our combined sighs of relief sang through the room. With Gray’s magic once more a part of me, I didn’t have to wonder if he was as blissfully content as me. I knew it down to the depths of my soul.

“I missed you,” Gray said, voice small.

“I missed you too.” Gray was back in my arms, exactly where he should be. We stayed like that, holding each other while we relearned what it felt like to share our magic. Soon, that contented feeling shifted to something else, something more primal.

Rubbing his growing hardness against mine, Gray said, “I think I’m ready to experience Big Marty again.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop my gasp of laughter. My smile was so wide it hurt my cheeks. Pressing my body against Gray’s, I was rewarded with a satisfied groan. “I think Big Marty would like nothing more than to satisfy your every wish.”

“Music to my ears. Truly, a symphony.”

High praise coming from a will-o’-the-wisp. High praise indeed, and I would do everything in my power to be what Gray needed. Gray said I was his treasure. I hoped that was true because I knew without a doubt that Gray was mine. Who would have ever thought a dryad would find his treasure and that mythical fantasy would be filled by a deliciously sexy will-o’-the-wisp?

Epilogue

Keir

“How are the eggs fairing in their new home?” Tabitha asked. She was currently lounging in a cushioned chair, her feet raised and resting on my pillowed coffee table. Pleasant sounds of contented happiness escaped her lips now and again as she sipped my tea. Elvira hovered near the fireplace, eyes trained on the wyvern eggs within.

“I wish I knew. They seem content enough. Thalia said this is what they need to mature to the next level of their development.”

“The double fireplace is odd,” Elvira said. “I am still confused how this is possible, and in such a short time frame as well.”

Tabitha hummed her agreement. “Pixie magic is a wonder. I feel a fool for not considering this as a possibility.”

“I believe we all feel like fools,” I agreed as my eyes wandered my perfectly repaired quarters, a second, smaller fireplace neatly wedged beside the larger one that had always called my space home.

A home-and-hearth pixie—that was the magic Huxley stole. It was the magic Martin had absorbed, transformed, and then released. Home-and-hearth pixies didn’t just form protective barriers around that which they’d bonded with; they had dominion over the dwelling itself. The structure they bonded with became a sentient, living thing, responding to the pixie’s desires, often before the bonded pixie said a word.