“When I’m in Mr Tailsy form, I’m rather…impulsive. All I could think about was returning to you.” He flushed.
I ached to trace the blush down his cheeks, neck, and then open his shirt and see how far down it went but I didn’t know if he returned my love. Not with the hunger, desire, need, and craving the same as any ghost.
Robin edged back, lifting the book off my lap. When he traced its spine, I was envious, imagining that his finger was touching me with such reverence. “I meant to steal a dance with you at the Enchanted Ball, even if I was beaten for it after. I had this whole scene worked out in my head. It would’ve been grand and romantic and…” He sighed. “As is tradition, I had a gift for you as well. I have no money. I wish that I could buy you the world but…I made this: It’s a Your Heart’s Desire Book.”
Then he ducked his head.
Your Heart’s Desire…?
I stared down at the book that he was holding. I could tell that it’d been created out of sheets, which had been ripped out of other books (possibly his ones for classes).
What kind of risks had he taken to make it?
Orphan whipping boys had no possessions. Was that why he’d hidden it in Hecate’s Tree, so that the Princes wouldn’t find it?
My pulse sped up, and I swallowed with difficulty. Gifts at the ball were traditionally given to those who you intended to court or marry. Was that what Robin meant?
Had he decided to ask me to…what?
I gently took the book from him. “Thank you. I could never wish for anything better.”
I studied the red feathers that decorated the front of the book. They were beautiful. Then I blanched.
Hold on a witching minute, Robin had plucked his own feathers to be able to make me this gift…?
Would it be a terrible breach of manners if I vomited?
“How could you…?” I whispered.
Robin grasped my fingers between his. “They’ll grow back. Now whenever we’re parted, you’ll have me with you still. When you’re alone, open the book and you’ll understand as well.”
All right, that sounded obsessive enough that he did feel the same as me…maybe?
When he stroked my fingers between his over the feathers, his bittersweet robin’s song magically sang out. I laughed. Sometimes, I forgot how powerful a mage Robin was.
“I’ve been bought the finest gifts since I was a baby,” I murmured, “but this is the best one that I’ve ever received. I shall treasure it.”
Robin’s eyes crinkled, as he smiled. I lived for those smiles: the times that he lost himself in me, forgetting the dangers of the academy.
Like now.
Then the moment passed, and he frowned. “Don’t lie to me.”
I crossed my arms. “Don’t be a mage’s prick.”
Robin raised his eyebrow. “That’s difficult since I have one.”
Now it was my turn to flush.
Why couldn’t I have him? Why did I have to deny us both?
There was only one certain way to check that he returned my love. The secret code of glove flirtation that mother had taught me for when I was finally taken into balls and witch society.
Robin’s face scrunched in confusion, as I drew off both my elbow length gloves, before pressing their tips to my lips with deliberate tenderness, never dropping my gaze from his.
Code: I love you.
I didn’t expect Robin’s bark of laughter.
Instantly, my eyes burned with tears, and I tried to roll away from underneath him, but he was too strong. He held me down, and even though I called for my magic, it only fell in caressing strokes around Robin’s shoulders.
“Get off me,” I hissed.
Robin clutched my hands, holding me still. “Hush,” he murmured, “silly, sweetheart.”
I stopped struggling, almost stopped breathing at the sweetheart.
“But you don’t—”
“I love you.” Robin gentled his hold on my hands. His crotch rocked against mine, and I moaned. “For so many years now, I’ve loved you. But you’re my best friend, and even that closeness is more than a mage deserves.” When I tried to speak and tell me him that he was wrong — the other witches thought he was the enemy, but he must realize that I alone didn’t — he licked across the seam of my lips, and I was stunned to silence. “You’re to marry another. Yes, I’m aware. And still I crave only you because I’m wicked. I know that it’s a crime to want you as I do, and yet I can’t stop.”
“If you’re wicked, then so am I,” I insisted. His fingers ghosted against the pulse points on my wrists, and I was desperate to feel them across my aching nubs. “I didn’t choose to marry a stranger, and you didn’t choose to be born a mage. Why should we sacrifice our love?”
“May I kiss you?” His voice was low and desperate. “If I can’t marry you, then let me love you. I wish to hold you forever, but if they steal that from us, then let me at least have one moment to remember.”
I shuddered, rubbing my nose against Robin’s in a way that was familiar but now so changed, just like everything. “I’m not bound to my husband yet. Even Titus can’t hex me for a kiss before we’ve even been introduced, surely…?”
Robin stiffened. “Fae are insufferably possessive snobs, and I shall hate him on principle. But he’ll love you, I promise.”
I could see how hard it was for Robin to say those words, but it deepened my respect for him that he’d forced himself to reassure me. Even now, he was trying to protect me.
My lips fizzed with magenta magic. I gasped, as it jumped across to Robin’s mouth, pulling him into a kiss that was intoxicating in its desperation and savagery.
My first kiss was everything that I’d dreamed, and yet witching heavens, so many times better.
I sucked on Robin’s lower lip, and he nibbled on mine in retaliation. Then his tongue twined with mine, and I was lost in the sensation of my first kiss, which tasted sweetly of berries and bubbling magic. I arched, as my eyes widened, and all of a sudden, my magic reached out, until I could sense everything: the roots of the trees, the birds in the sky, and the pink trails of every student within the academy like their magical signature written behind them.
I’d been awakened.
“Oh, what a delightful discovery.” Unexpectedly, mother’s voice rang through the glade, and I jolted in shock. Robin didn’t pull away from the kiss, however, instead he held onto me more tightly. “I apologize, am I interrupting? I mean, my daughter is only marrying a prince tonight, but if a worthless mage believes that he may touch her, then who am I to tell him that a wretched creature like him has no such right?”
A single tear slipped down my cheek.
Worthless…wretched?
I knew that Robin had been called such words as soon as his magic had come in and his witch family had realized that their son was magical, but after the beauty of what Robin and I had shared, I hated that mother would use such words like blades.
My mother, Henrietta, was a dark shadow at the corner of the glade like Hecate (or my magic) refused to welcome her in. Flair and Echo cawed raucously, flapping their wings.
At last, Robin pulled back but continued to peck feather-light kisses onto my lips between each word. “I shall always love you. Please, don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?” Hocus Pocus, how could I ever forget him? “Why would I…?”