“We gave to each other.” Allison kissed his chest and tugged on his ring. “Now take it off before I hurt you.”
He humoured her, pulling the ring free, the one she’d had prepared so quickly back before she even knew this marriage was going to be real. Gabe handed it to her.
She held the plain gold band carefully at an angle. “Look. What do you see? Inside.”
Gabe leaned closer, squinting slightly as he focused in. “Butterflies? You put butterflies on the inside of my wedding ring.”
She dipped her head. “I did. Because you deserved to break free as well.”
Her cheeks were flushed. Butterflies. What had she been thinking? The glorious phoenix marking his skin was far more appropriate than the delicate little creatures she’d picked out.
Gabe slipped his ring back on. “I think that’s pretty amazing. Thank you. Thank you for wanting that for me.”
She shrugged. “It’s only butterflies.”
He caught her chin in his hands and stared into her eyes. The tenderness she saw there, the love—it made her speechless.
He brushed their lips together for a second. Spoke against her mouth. “And they only live in places that are healthy, right? So I want to see whole flocks of butterflies over this land. Over our house. If I have to tattoo butterflies on me to prove it, then I will.”
He shushed her protests and stood them both, his shirt abandoned on the ground. Allison couldn’t figure out what he was doing until he twisted his back toward her and pointed. “Look. Look closely at the fire.”
She pressed her palm to his skin, framing the section. This was the only area fully coloured. Deep crimson and brilliant gold mingled together as they rose to form the feathers covering the bird’s chest. She’d admired the tattoo a hundred times since he came home to show her.
Now for the first time she spotted it. The tiny outlines of dozens of butterflies, their wings meshing into each other’s like some drawing by Escher. A thin line of them escaping from the fire and flying upward, hidden in the plumage of the phoenix’s breast.
When he turned, she trailed her fingers over his body, not wanting to let him go.
Gabe tilted his hat back slightly. Grinned.
“Rabble,” she said.
His grin twisted. “What?”
“A rabble. A group of butterflies is called a rabble. Or a swarm, or the really pretty name is a kaleidoscop—”
He covered her mouth with his hand. “I love you, Allison.”
When he slipped his fingers off she leapt, wrapping herself around him and clinging tight. “I love you too, Angel Boy. I’m so glad you’ve found your wings.”
“We can fly together.”
About the Author
Vivian Arend in one word: Adventurous. In a sentence: Willing to try just about anything once. That wide-eyed attitude has taken her around North America, through parts of Europe, and into Central and South America, often with no running water.
Her optimistic outlook also meant that when challenged to write a book, she gave it a shot, and discovered creating worlds to play in was nearly as addictive as traveling the real one. Now a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of both contemporary and paranormal stories, Vivian continues to explore, write and otherwise keep herself well entertained.
Website: www.vivianarend.com
Blog: www.vivianarend.com/blog
Twitter: www.twitter.com/VivianArend
Facebook: www.facebook.com/VivianArend