Page 62 of Demon's Beauty

Finn

My mate is a hard witch to get a moment with.

Over our week at camp, she’s been engrossed in her work with Vayla. Obsessive, almost.

But I suppose that just comes with the territory for someone as gifted as she is.

Between the two of them, the guards, and the assistants Vayla brought along, they staked out more than a dozen patches of stellarin flowers and spent each evening gathering blooms.

Once the flowers have had the chance to rest overnight, the team is hard at work removing the internal structures of the blooms to add to their tinctures and potions.

It’s time-consuming, tedious work, and my witch is determined to take double shifts both harvesting and processing the flowers.

Add to that the hours she needs to sleep—stubbornly still in the tent with Vayla despite my very earnest invitation for her to join me in mine—and my guard duties, I feel like I’ve barely seen her by the time we reach our last night on the mountain.

In fact, it seems like she’s deliberately avoiding me, using work as an excuse to keep herself occupied and without a single free second.

I don’t know what to make of it, and in the brief interludes we get together she doesn’t seem like she resents my company. I’m still able to draw more teasing from her, more sass, some of those private little smiles she never seems to give anyone else.

All of it is damned frustrating, and by the end of the week I’d give my left horn if it meant a few hours of uninterrupted time with her.

Still, there have been moments.

A look shared over the fire.

An early morning walk by the river.

An almost-kiss outside my tent on the second-to-last night we spent at camp.

My hand on her jaw, a tapestry of stars above, emerald eyes shining in the darkness.

Beautiful, so beautiful, my mate.

But she retreated into her tent for the evening before anything more could happen.

And that’s alright.

It’s just fine if my witch needs a little more wooing. I’m nothing if not determined, and showing Soleil what a suitable mate I’d make for her is my new life’s mission.

My guard shift is over by early afternoon, and after putting my latest plan in motion and taking a quick dip in the river to freshen up, I head back to camp to search for her.

I run into Glenson first, standing just outside the tent the guards have been using as a makeshift base of operations.

He nods as I approach. “Nighfall.”

“Glenson,” I return the greeting.

For a few moments we stand side by side in stoic silence, surveying the camp, the demons wrapping up their last day here. The blossoms have all been gathered and processed. The guards and Vayla’s team are at work beginning preparations to break down camp and leave in the morning.

We’ll all have one last night of revelry, dinner and drinking around the fire to celebrate the end of our mission.

A successful trip, all things considered.

Aside from the whole nearly dying by drakon fire thing. But what’s a trip to the Bone Peaks without a bit of danger?

“I meant to thank you,” Glenson says, breaking the silence.

“For?”