Page 64 of Edge of Stars

“Once you got poetic, you referenced the reflections on the surface. But before that, you talked about all the things that could exist below the ripples on top. Even beyond the shallows. Hidden caverns. Crevices nobody can see when they’re taking the pretty view at face value.”

I’m not sure if his chest appreciates the speech, but that’s the audience my new nervousness picks for it—until there’s a commanding finger under my chin. When it’s joined by its pal at the indent beneath my bottom lip, I have no choice about lifting my gaze to fully meet his.

“Face value,” he echoes, the roughness solely for my ears to absorb. “Like the way the whole world looks at you.”

I swallow hard. “Until you called me to your podium after class that day.”

He smiles, but it’s fleeting. More prominent is how his eyes darken to troubled indigo and his jaw develops a subtle tick. “The most incredible thing that ever happened to me. You changed my life.”

I brush fingers across his furrowed brow. “For…the better?”

He relaxes his scowl, though not all the way. “In every miraculous way I can think of, my beautiful bride.”

“But?”

We’ve both flung the prompt too many times today, but I can’t think of anything more eloquent. Not when I sense its necessity from his spirit as well as his voice. Still, the relief that comes with the second half of his intention, a flow of nothing but determined devotion, is enough to swell my heart and race my pulse. It’s the kind of Professor Kane fantasy that would soak panties across half of Alameda University. But I’m not secretly gloating. I’m outwardly grateful. How this man is all mine is a mystery I might not ever fully solve—nor want to.

“We fell so hard and so fast,” he offers then, quiet and contemplative. “Which, to be clear, I wouldn’t have stopped or slowed if I could…”

“I know.” I trail my touch along the rugged edge of his face, treasuring the combination of his hair and beard beneath my fingertips. “Me neither.”

“Then there was a trip to buy fruit and some damn good sushi at Yamashiro, I think—”

“Before hell broke loose,” I finish for him. “Literally. And several other ways too.”

He accepts that the way I hope. With a heavy sigh but a quirking chuckle. “It’s been a nonstop parkour run. If stuff like boulders in the Styx and cliffs in hidden witch haunts also count. And they really damn well should.”

A smile tempts my own lips. “You forgot the daily disguises during the drive between Rerek’s place and Terranea.”

“Still can’t decide whether I like you better as hungover rave girl or fussy old lady with the fake poodle in your purse.”

“You mean Pookie?”

“Oh shit.” But the grumble doesn’t stop his heartier laugh. “I can’t believe you named that mangy thing.”

I respond, mockingly serious, “If Pookie were here, I’d order her to bite your nose.”

“Well, that settles it.” He nods. “We’re burning the old lady outfit when we get home.”

“Hmmm. Yes, sir.” My tone is milder as I add the flat of my hand in my caress along his jaw. His gaze intensifies. I push in even more, enforcing how this isn’t some humor-as-barrier move. That I haven’t forgotten a single piece of his point. That I want to stay open now, not just honest.

I tell him so too. “Costumes and concealment and the constant defense plays…” It deserves an emphasizing sigh. “We’ve been so busy fighting for us that we haven’t had time to simply be us.”

A new breath leaves him, as well. It’s heftier than before, spilling over my senses with focused ferocity, casting a strange but welcome kind of spell. I didn’t think I could feel closer to him, but the truth of it is clear. A hundred new doors have opened between us, each leading to a new level of our love The intimacy goes beyond the rings and the vows; it transcends even the woozy wonder of our tender first dates. It’s exactly what Maximus claimed: a bond like the stars themselves, pulled to each other like light and space and gravity. Destiny that was sealed in the cosmos, no matter how Hecate messed with the timing.

Magical thoughts. And star-bright surety. But between it all, we’re now learning what every couple, Olympian or demon or human, has to. The intimacy, not just the sexy sleepovers.

It’s a big mental glob to take in, but the process brings me to a wider grin than before. When my husband emulates the look with his own tender stare and reverent smile, I tug into his beard, urging him closer. And then more. More…

Until we’re sharing desperate breaths. And heavy husks. And throbbing heartbeats.

And passion.

All of it…and more.

The long, wet mash of our mouths. The longer, savoring lolls of our tongues. Vibrations and connections. Wantings and hungerings. For this once, for this now, seizing the chance to forget what we’ve been through and just celebrate what we are.

A little closer. A little wiser. Stronger together.