Trees closed in like sentinels. Ferns stirred in the damp breeze and shimmered with wet. She heard the long, deep call of an owl and turned without thought or hesitation toward the sound. Once, she saw him, huge and grand and as silver as the mist, with the glint of gold on his breast and the flash of green eyes.

Like walking through a fairy tale. A part of her mind recognized, acknowledged and embraced the magic of it, while another part slept, not yet ready to see, not yet ready to know. But her heart beat strong and steady and her steps were quick and light.

If there were eyes peeking from between the lacy branches of the ferns, if there was joyful laughter tinkling down from the high spreading branches of the firs, she could only enjoy it.

At each step, each turn of the path, the fog shimmered clear to open the way for her.

And the water sang quietly.

She saw the lights glowing, little fires in the night. She smelled sea, candle wax, sweet, fragrant flowers. Her soft smile spread as she stepped into the clearing, to the dance of stones.

Fog shivered at the edges, like a foamy hem, but didn’t slide between stone and candle and flowers. So he stood in the center, on clear ground, his robe white as the moonshine, the jewels belting it flashing with power and light.

If his heart jerked at the sight of her, if it trembled on the edge of where he’d vowed it would not go, he ignored it.

“Will you come in, Rowan?” he asked, and held out a hand.

Something in her yearned. Something in her shuddered. But her smile remained as she took another step. “Of course I will.” And walked through the stones.

Something throbbed on the air, along her skin, in her heart. She heard the stones whisper. The lights of the candles flickered, swayed, then flamed straight up again.

Their fingertips brushed. Her eyes stayed on his, trusting, when those fingers linked firm. “I dream of you, every night.” She sighed it, and would have moved into him, but he laid a hand on her shoulder. “And long for you through the days.”

“You don’t understand, neither the rewards nor the consequences. And you must.”

“I know I want you. You’ve already seduced me, Liam.”

A tiny finger of guilt scraped up his spine. “I’m not without needs.”

She reached up, cupped his cheek. And her voice was soft where his had been rough. “Do you need me?”

“I want you.” Need was too much, too weak, too risky.

“I’m here.” She lifted her face to his. “Won’t you kiss me?”