The clearing is much, much brighter than before—because it is filled with blinking fireflies. They float around us, lights pulsing lazily on and off. There, then invisible again. So many that I can’t follow any single insect, but instead feel surrounded by gentle, slow bursts of light. I rotate where we stand, feeling dizzy and delighted at once. “There are so many…!”

Sel nods. “It’s late in the season for them. I didn’t think they’d still be present, but they must like this clearing.” He watches me curiously. “Do you like it?”

I grin. “I love it.”

His smile grows until it’s reckless. “I knew you would.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a hug without asking. After a beat, his arms encircle my waist. This time he’s the one who tucks his face into my neck and shoulder, mumbling, “Happy birthday, Bree.”

I pull back slightly. He releases me, face turning suspicious.

“That’s your question-face,” he murmurs.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Go on.”

I gnaw on my lip, fighting myself. It’d be easier to not say anything.

Sel’s eyes are thoughtful. Patient.

I release the words in a quiet rush. “You called me cariad.”

He raises a brow. “I did.”

“I didn’t know what it meant then.”

His eyelids flutter before he steels himself. “I… was aware. So?”

“So, I want to talk about it,” I insist. “What you meant.”

I do not expect the sound of his dry laugh, edged with amusement. Or the mixed expression of frustration and sheer awe. “Really? Now is when you want a Welsh lesson on something I said months ago?”

“Be nice, it’s my birthday,” I shoot back.

He regards me for a moment. “All right.” His voice is low and careful. “Well, that was a statement, not a question. And if we’re going to discuss this, I’d rather feel as though you’re not hiding from it. So, I’d like you to say that again, please.”

The overtone in his voice is that of a challenge, but beneath it is something I rarely hear from Sel: vulnerability.

I lift my chin and repeat myself, holding his gaze on every word. “You called me cariad.”

“I did.” He takes a step closer, eyes searching mine before he speaks again. “Is that your question? You want me to tell you the English translation?”

I shake my head, and his brows lift. “No. I asked William the other day.”

“Ah,” he says, surprised. “I see.”

I flush beneath his gaze. Roll my eyes to cover a rush of embarrassment. “Still mad, by the way, at you and Nick for talking about me in Welsh in that blood walk while I was right there.”

He doesn’t fall for it. “No, you’re not.”

I gaze up at him, heart thundering in my chest. “A little.”