Page 62 of Wateredge

Seren’s fingers were in hers before she even reached out for them.

“So what were you saying about blowing this popsicle stand? I heard the next designated hitter of the Nest’s Crows baseball team wanted me to take her home.”

Lark was barely aware of the drive to Crow House. Someone must’ve given them a lift. All that she’d recall later was the back seat, the scent of sandalwood from the little air freshener tree on the windshield, and Seren’s arm around her shoulders, keeping her warm, dangerously so. Seren’s fingers played with her hair, and her lips would periodically touch Lark. Openly, unashamed. Taking her breath away. Making her hold back the sighs, the moans that those wandering fingertips were eliciting.

“Soon,” Seren whispered in her ear, the lips grazing the shell, and Lark quivered. Did people really live like this? Want like this? Need like this? She was beginning to understand the books. All the small ones she’d steal and hide, all those covers her mother called indecent, where people kissed and held each other and behaved in the most insane ways to just be with each other. To just be like this. She finally understood. Because nobody would tear her from Seren’s side now. Not when she felt drunk on this scent. On this skin. On these lips….

They stumbled into the quiet house, door banging open, and it felt like falling into heaven. The silence was never heavy here, and it enveloped them now, the candles strewn around the living room and kitchen springing to life with a wave of Seren’s hand.

“I thought you were a Water Witch,” Lark whispered against the hungry lips nipping at hers.

“I am.” Seren’s breath came out in harsh puffs, as if she was trying to steady herself, and yet her hands were everywhere, and Lark reveled in the feel of them finally on her. “Do you really want to talk about magic right now?”

Seren lifted her face for a second, looking down into Lark’s eyes, the green all but on fire.

“I did think we were talking about magic right now,” Lark murmured, standing up on her tiptoes again and pressing a quick kiss to the red, swollen lips. “Because you are pure magic. What you’re doing to me is pure magic.”

Seren inhaled sharply, the sound a mixture of laughter and sob, and Lark felt her heart pound even quicker. How was it even possible? She was certain it had been thrashing somewhere outside her body all evening anyway.

“I… I had an entire speech prepared about how I didn’t want to hurt you, how I was so afraid that I would… And then I saw you break a man’s jaw and probably about a dozen of his teeth with one swing, and now I am less sure the speech is necessary.” Seren smiled the slow, sly grin that Lark had come to adore.

Then those beautiful features sobered.

“Still, I don’t want to hurt you, Lark. Tell me if I do, please,” Seren whispered and lowered her head again, searching Lark’s eyes carefully. Lark felt them fill with tears instantly.

For the hundredth time since she’d met this woman, she wondered the exact same thing. This time, she allowed herself to say it out loud.

“Where have you been my whole life?”

“Right here. Waiting for you,” Seren said and finally leaned all the way, their lips connecting again, and it was just as Lark had said.

Pure magic. They both were.

Seren lifted her hands and cupped Lark’s jaw, and Lark shivered, anticipation coursing through her veins. She pushed Seren against the wall and tangled her fingers in that glorious, fiery hair.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Seren smiled against her lips at the words, and Lark felt like she could do anything, say anything, and so she did.

“I’ve been wanting to do so many things. You make me brave. I’ve been nothing but brave since I saw you, since you kissed me.”

Seren’s smile grew.

“Technically, you kissed me first.”

Lark pulled on the shaggy hair, running her fingers up the tingly undercut, admiring the sensation.

“Oh, yeah. I did, didn’t I? Well, you were just so irresistible. Your burned hand and your Water and your magic. And these lips. Gosh, I have been dreaming about them, do you know that?”

Seren moaned at her words, and Lark wondered where her audacity was coming from. Where this… naughtiness, for lack of a better word, came from. She had never been like this. She had never said anything like this. Magnus would’ve⁠—

She stopped herself with a swift shake of her head.

Magnus.

She had not allowed herself to even think of his name. Not since she arrived on Dragons. And she’d not think of him now. He had no place here. She would never let him share even the same mental space as Seren. He wasn’t here. He’d never be here. She was free, and she was⁠—

Lark looked into the burning eyes of the woman whose hands were gentle on her. Whose lips sought hers. Whose heart beat in time with hers.