Page 37

Warm. Gods…He was warm.

Her touch affinity responded immediately, drawing in the steady current of life beneath his skin. The dizzy haze receded a little, enough for her to breathe without feeling like she might faint.

“Asterion,” she murmured.

He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before wrapping one strong arm around her to keep her from slipping.

“I’ve got you.”

Ria let out a slow, deep breath. She hadn’t been aware of how much she needed to hear those words until he said them. The moment she settled against his chest, the pounding in her head dulled to something manageable. She tucked herself closer, letting his warmth do the rest. He was warm and solid, his heartbeat steady against her cheek. She could smell soap on him, along with the faint cedar scent that always seemed to cling to his clothes. Ria breathed it in and stayed where she was.

She knew she should move, should put some distance between them before she became too comfortable, but she didn’t. She tilted her head back and found Asterion already looking down at her. For once, there was no irritation in his expression and no argument waiting to start.

Ria searched his dark eyes, and up close, she noticed the golden flecks within the darkness, subtle but unmistakable when the light struck them just right. The discovery compelled her to look deeper as she tried to read what he was feeling. She found concern, curiosity, and something softer that hadn’t been there before, a warmth that caused her heart to skip a beat. I wish he’d kiss me. The thought slipped into her mind so suddenly that she almost laughed at herself. Of all the things she could have been thinking about, after everything they’d been through, that was what her brain had chosen. As if that would ever⁠—

Asterion leaned in, and his lips brushed hers, tentative enough that she was able to pull away if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t. She leaned closer, and his hand settled more firmly against her as he kissed her again, but still giving her every opportunity to change her mind. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her touch affinity flared brilliantly, magic coursing through her as though it had reached the connection it had been seeking. The exhaustion that had settled into her bones dissolved, and she melted against him with a soft sigh.

For the first time since arriving in Vale Crossing, she wasn’t thinking about Hecate’s mission, wounded demigods, or ancient magic they were going to have to deal with next. She was just thinking about kissing the impossibly stubborn minotaur holding her as if letting go was the last thing he wanted to do.

She hadn’t realized she was moving until she shifted in his lap, turning to face him. One leg settled on either side of his hips, and she wrapped herself a little closer around him. It reminded her unexpectedly of being a teenager, when kissing someone could occupy her entire attention. There had been something beautifully simple about that time, just the thrill of being close to someone. Her magic continued to return as they kissed, but this felt different from the other times Asterion had replenished her power. She wasn’t touching him because she needed magic. She was touching him because she wanted to.

“I…feel much better.” Ria smiled.

Asterion searched her face, his golden gaze lingering on hers as if making certain she was telling the truth. “I can see that,” he murmured.

A soft laugh escaped her. “So,” she said, unable to resist, “does this mean you’ve officially changed your opinion of witches?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I didn’t say that.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She rolled her eyes.

“But…”

The single word caught her attention.

His thumb brushed against her shoulder. “…I may have been wrong about one.”

Ria’s smile widened. “I’ll take that as progress.”

“So you said earlier.”

“And look at you”—she gave him a playful nudge—“learning already.”

To her surprise, he laughed a low, genuine sound that rumbled in his chest beneath her hands. “I’m a quick study.”

His hand came up to her cheek, the calluses on his palm rough against her skin. He looked at her for a moment before kissing her again. Ria relaxed into it, enjoying the warmth of his hand and the care he took with her. It was a good kiss—slow, patient, and surprisingly tender for someone who looked as though he belonged on a battlefield instead of a couch.

Kissing a minotaur was definitely different. She had to tip her head back farther than she was used to, and even sitting down, Asterion seemed to take up twice as much space as she did. His arm around her nearly covered her back. Somehow, though, they figured it out without much trouble. She shifted closer, he adjusted, and soon she stopped thinking about the differences at all.

When the kiss finally broke, neither of them pulled away very far; their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Asterion kept looking at her, and there was none of his usual irritation in his expression.

“This…” he murmured, almost sounding surprised by his own words, “aye, this is good.”

She smiled, her grip on his shirt tightening just a little. “It is,” she whispered.

Somewhere between a lingering kiss and the next, Ria lost all track of time. At some point, Asterion shifted, easing them both sideways until they were stretched out on the couch, facing each other. All she knew was that she was comfortable, pressed close to him as though there had always been a place for her there. His hand rested lightly on her back while hers traced the strong line of his shoulder, learning the shape of him without hurry. Every so often, their hands intertwined before drifting apart again, only to find each other moments later.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d just…made out with someone. Not because it was leading somewhere, and not because either of them expected it to. They weren’t negotiating the future or wondering what came next. They were enjoying each other and, for once, that was enough.