Page 47 of The Tanglewood Witches (The Three Sisters 1)
Chapter Nine
“What was it like?”
Medea lowered her chin and gave Isis a secret smile.
Both of her sisters were huddled with her at the base of the tanglewood tree, desperate for information. They’d witnessed the kiss from behind the cover of a large tree in the apple grove. She should have known they would. There was absolutely nothing more exciting in any of their lives as a man in their midst. She couldn’t deny them the information they sought so ardently.
“The kiss was warm and soft.” Her cheeks heated as she remembered it. “But his body was hard. Hard everywhere, like the muscles of your calves. And his skin was hot like he’d been standing by a fire. That’s because he’s a dragon. They run hotter than the rest of us.”
“What about his…?” Circe raised an eyebrow.
“Circe!” Isis elbowed her in the arm.
“More than adequate,” Medea said with an impish grin. “Everything we’ve read about as far as I could tell. I mean, we didn’t…”
“We know.” Circe sighed and gave her a wicked wink. “Although how you managed to stop, I can’t imagine. You must have been as curious as we are.”
“There was so much more than what I expected. My heart pounded in my chest, and a sweat broke out across my skin like when we were children playing chase. Something else, a connection. I felt it snap into place between us, almost like we were meant for each other. I think he’s my destiny.”
Isis stifled a laugh. “What do you mean, your destiny?”
“Like how we were destined to be sisters, and Mother and Father were destined to be our parents. He is my future, my next family.”
“Like Mother and Father?” Circe inclined her head.
“I think so.” Medea pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “If he feels the same way. He might not. How does one know for sure? I have no experience with this love magic.”
“Only…” Isis’s dark eyes narrowed, and her fingers pressed into her bottom lip.
“What sister?”
Isis released a tightly held breath. “He doesn’t know who you are, not really. He doesn’t know our story. No one can love a lie.”
Medea’s heart sank, and a stone formed in the pit of her stomach at the word. Had she, despite her efforts not to, deceived Tavyss?
“Nonsense. What does he think she is?” Circe tossed up her hands. “Nymphs don’t do magic. After this long, he must suspect that Medea is a witch, and if he doesn’t, it’s his fault for not using his head.”
“No, Circe, Isis is right. I’ve misled him in the most awful way.” A wave of guilt crashed into Medea as the truth of the matter became crystal clear. Her voice hitched. “He’s the Guardian at the Gate, and we are here without Hera’s permission. He doesn’t know everything about our parents or what we are. I… I have to tell him the entire truth. If I don’t, someday he’ll find out, and then everything we’ve built will be torn to shreds. When I see him this afternoon, I must explain it all to him.”
“You’re seeing him again? Today?” Isis grinned.
“Yes, and this time please give us privacy. If I have to use a spell, I will.” The glare Medea gave her sisters showed she was serious.
“Fine,” Circe said. Isis reluctantly bowed her head in agreement. “But I want to hear everything when it’s over.”
* * *
Medea waited in the grove,surrounded by golden apple trees, as the sun began to set and the fuchsia light glinted off the metallic fruit. Tavyss arrived in the blink of an eye, his wings still outstretched from flight, his gaze reaching for her.
“You came,” she said.
His golden gaze locked onto her, and her insides seemed to melt under the warm honey. “I couldn’t wait to see you.”
He strode toward her. At first she thought he meant to take her into his arms and kiss her again. But then he stopped short, his expression hard to read, and took a seat beside her on the mossy knoll.
Should she tell him now about who she really was? Their eyes locked and her stomach gave a delicious flutter that sent a bloom of sparks through her insides. She glanced away, unable to work up the courage to go through with it.
“Have you ever wondered what they taste like?” she asked, glancing up toward the golden apples. “The nymphs who gather the fallen ones say that if you eat the fruit, it can kill you. They say it holds too much power and destroys you from within.”
