Page 48 of Wateredge

Lark smiled. An affectionate, genuine gesture that reached her tired eyes, the faint lines under them more pronounced, making her seem both older and yet so much less guarded.

Beautiful.

Seren drew in a deep breath. The waves underneath them swelled with her chest, stray droplets reaching her skin, urging her on. Urging her closer.

“And Ceridwen sent me. Do you think they’re in cahoots?” Lark’s smile was radiant. Seren wanted to bask in it like a cat in the sun’s rays.

“I think they are just meddlesome witches, but they are family, so what are you gonna do?” Seren shrugged. Lark’s eyes went wide.

“I’m still in awe that Victoria would have ever shared that with me.”

Seren raised an eyebrow.

“Awe?”

Lark frowned.

“Yes? Why would I not be in awe of Victoria? She is not only a witch, but she felt generous enough to share it with me. It’s awe-inspiring. And also, I feel that the lot of you don’t cherish her as much as you should. But also, maybe she isn’t the Wind or the Fire or the mighty Water or what have you, but her magic is special and cozy and comforting. I think you all tease her too much.”

It was Seren’s turn to frown.

“I mean, do we? She’s our aunt…” She threw Lark a sideways glance and saw the fine features still arranged in a disappointed expression. “And I’m a witch too. So…”

“Oh, I think I’ve known that from the moment I saw you.” The disappointment faded, and the lightness was back, Lark watching her now with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Seren had come to appreciate that look. It spelled out possibilities. It was the exact one she’d seen before Lark had kissed her at the Crow House.

“How did you? Know, I mean.”

“You stood apart. Special. Unique. Unlike anything and anyone I’ve ever known, Seren Crowhart. Magical. So it stands to reason that you’re a witch.”

Seren, heart trembling in her chest from the emotion of the moment, extended a hand, and the ocean rose to her, a tall spire of foaming water, both tender and powerful. She had never been a show-off—that was Deryn and Rhiannon’s domain, their elements so much more showroom perfect for acts of bragging—yet here, on Sky Blue, she felt compelled to impress. It was so silly.

And yet the smile on Lark’s face was so radiant, so delighted, Seren felt instantly vindicated. And more than a little enchanted all over again.

“May I?” Lark pointed to the water, and Seren nodded. When Lark’s palms were close to it, Seren flicked her fingertips, spraying her with foam.

“You are absolutely awful!” Lark shrieked, but there was merriment in it, and Seren dried her jacket immediately with a touch, making sure the cold didn’t get to her. The water spire fell back into the ocean with her no longer attending to it.

“Yeah, I’m the worst,” Seren whispered, as they were now face-to-face, her hands on Lark’s lapels, feeling the heart beating double time under the flimsy covering.

Lark’s blue eyes were huge, filled with something Seren couldn’t untangle and yet felt compelled to drown in. So, of course, she chose that moment to say something absolutely asinine.

“You need a new jacket.”

Lark’s eyes instantly lost their wonder and narrowed.

“So romantic.” Seren could see Lark was holding back an eye roll, her voice infused with sarcasm. “You’re doing that thing, Seren Crowhart. The one where you tell me what I need. Free muffins. A hat. A jacket. I’m an adult, you know. I’ve kept myself alive for twenty-seven years. Nobody tells me what I need.”

Seren’s fingers flexed on the thin material, and she bit her lip. There were so many questions, so many things she wanted to ask and say and yell about, because how the fuck did this woman even⁠—

“Plus, you telling me what I need is not what I want from you right now.”

Seren’s thoughts about jackets and beanies and scarves evaporated. Lark’s voice had gone down to an octave that did unspeakable things to the butterflies in Seren’s stomach.

“What—” Seren heard the squeak in her own voice and tried masking it with a cough before gulping and asking again. “What do you want from me right now, Lark?”

The answering smile was a little wobbly, as if Lark was trying to be brave, but the hand reaching for Seren was remarkably steady.

“I want you to kiss me. Can you do that?”