“More of us,” the Arboreal said. “More of the fish that talk with lights. More of everything. More more more. Humans have so much. If only they could see. But always they want more. She has so many of us and yet she will not share. She keeps us all together, all here, all hers.” A leaf fluttered and Sera reached out to catch it. It was soft as her cloudspun dresses back home, and brighter than a jewel.

“Not that one, though,” the tree said, and its eyes were focused on a spot behind Sera and its mouth moved in what she thought was meant to be a smile. “That young sapling has only one desire. You.”

Sera turned. Leo was watching her from several feet away, and the look in his eyes made her head spin, her heart throwing itself against her chest as though trying to escape. For a long moment they both just stared at each other. Sera knew she should walk toward him—walking was not so difficult. Or she should speak to him, as she had spoken to him many times before. But everything that had once seemed so natural now felt insurmountable.

“What did that one say to you?” he asked, his voice rough.

Sera’s throat went tight. “That humans have so much,” she said, not sounding at all like herself, but breathless and shivery. “Yet they always want more. Not you, though. She says you only want one thing.”

“What’s that?”

Sera swallowed. “Me.”

Leo’s cheeks flushed pink and she understood it now, all those blushes, the delicate color she loved so much. She finally found her legs, taking one step forward and then another. Leo was frozen, watching her as wary as a wounded animal being stalked by a predator. Her body was moving of its own accord now and it didn’t stop until she was standing right in front of him, so close she could feel the heat of his body, could see every detail of his face. His eyelashes were so long and so black. Had she ever noticed that before? It was like there were bees buzzing in her rib cage, making everything heightened and jittery and just a little blurry. Her eyes found their way to his mouth and she swallowed again, hard.

Leo’s brow furrowed as if he could not quite understand what was happening. He smelled faintly of wool and leather and something musky that she felt was decidedly Leo. He looked ever so slightly helpless; Sera felt vulnerable too, as if just standing here in front of him was the equivalent of unzipping her skin and letting him see every part of who she was. But he knew who she was. And she knew him. All of him, the good parts and the bad.

With feather-light hesitation, she pressed her lips gently against his.

26

Leo

SERA WAS KISSING HIM.

Sera. Was. Kissing. Him.