Her lips are so warm and soft, the whole lavender world suspended by her enticing kiss, but Or’myr manages to keep his magic at bay as he deepens the kiss, ever so slightly, drawing her body toward his as she pulls him closer in turn and they kiss for a suspended, magical moment. Tierney presses her lips more firmly against his and makes an irresistible little sound of surprised pleasure, her full breasts soft against his chest, her hand coming up to caress his neck with unmistakable want.

Lightning breaks free of its magical constraints and flashes through Or’myr, through his lips and straight into hers.

Tierney cries out and jerks back, breaking the kiss. Her hand flies up to her mouth and she stumbles backward, threads of violet lightning crackling over her lips, as wave after wave of remorse swamps Or’myr.

He roughly yanks off the necklace. “I’m sorry,” he says as his fire magic pounds through him. “Tierney... I’m so sorry.”

“Or’myr... I’m all right,” Tierney insists, contradicting herself as she massages her mouth and studies him with a look of concern bordering on pity that makes Or’myr feel even more torn up, although he’ll be damned if he’ll let it show.

Tierney pulls off her necklace and studies it, seeming a bit dazed. “Well...at least I can say that I’ve finally been kissed.”

“That was your first kiss?” Or’myr shakes his head, another knife-strike of remorse spearing through him. “Tierney, I’m sorry. Truly.” He looks away, not able to hold her pitying stare. Wanting to wrest all the gorgeous, glowing purple flowers from the ground then raise his wand and blow up the damned Xishlon moon.

Tierney reaches out to touch his arm, and he reluctantly meets her entrancing gaze. “If I was Fire Fae,” she says with a slight, rueful smile, “I imagine we’d get on quite well.” The suggestion in her tone only serves to make him feel ten times worse.

“It’s no matter,” he brusquely states, looking west toward the mountains and then up at the cursed moon. “This idiotic festival will be over soon enough, and it’s a good thing too. It’s making us all lose our minds, and the military here is operating on a skeleton crew.”

Their eyes meet in morbid understanding, that blasted warmth sparking between them once more.

Tierney cocks her head as if considering something. “If I kiss your cheek, will it trigger more lightning?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, frustrated.

Tierney reaches up to touch his shoulder and Or’myr’s breath hitches, another flash of lightning forking through his lines. She brings her warm lips to his cheek and gives him a gentle kiss. Then another on the edge of his jaw. Another on the very edge of his mouth, thoughtfully tracing her thumb over his lower lip.

“Happy Xishlon, sweet Or’myr.”