And Cass had noted instantly, the moment Caelus’s hooves struck enchanted soil, the temperature of the air was at least twenty degrees warmer.

It was not balmy. It was not hot. It was not chilly either.

It was perfection.

“I’m not sleeping with one of them, but I have to admit, that show rivaled the parade in Fire City and I had never seen anything that magnificent,” Ian replied to Mac’s comment. “In other words, I understand what you’re saying. Anything of that marvel should not be enemy.”

Cass turned his attention to Elena’s back.

Her frame seemed more relaxed in the saddle. She was chatting amicably to Hera at her side. And the sound of her voice carrying back to him was beyond lyrical. There was no wariness, no tenseness.

It was poetic.

She felt safe.

She was home.

“What do you think our reception is going to be?” Mac asked.

“I don’t care if we have to ride through a barrage of arrows, just as long as I get to dodge them with this view,” Ian said as answer.

“There won’t be a barrage of arrows, Hadrian,” Mac returned. “Triton is advancing, don’t you know. Peace is at hand. And we’re us. They’ll love us.”

Bloody Mac.

“What I know is that I’d aim a barrage of arrows at any being that might even come close to endangering this realm, I wouldn’t care if they were guests of the queen,” Ian retorted.

“I can’t say I disagree,” Mac muttered, upon which Jazz turned.

“You like it, possum?” she called to Mac, her face bright and her carriage relaxed as well.

“I’m never leaving,” he called back.

She smiled brilliantly at him.

Elena turned in her saddle too, her eyes catching Cassius’s.

She did not say a word.

He still read her expression.

Most especially the challenging grin quirking her lips.

And so, when she dug her heels into Diana, he was already doing the same to Caelus.

Female warrior and steed burst forward.

And the male equivalent chased after her.

Cass’s amazement of the lush, clement surroundings had not paled when he saw his first treehouse, the wide sweep of its steps that started at the ground adorned with the first flowers he’d seen in The Enchantments, and these were as rich and abundant as the leaves in the trees.

The wooden treehouse it led to had several levels, various balconies, blinking diamond-paned windows, and a droopy thatched roof that made it look as if it was from a gnome settlement in Wodell, except crafted for larger beings.

However, Elena did not slow the gallop of her horse, either keen to get home or keen to take him there, so he also could not slow and fully take it in.

Or any of the others they passed, which were not uniform in the slightest.