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Copper Veins(60)

By:Jennifer Allis Provost


“Our first kiss was nice,” I said, once we came up for air.

“Nice?” Micah repeated, his brows halfway up his forehead. “I’ll show you nice!”

“Will you?” I tried to slip out of his grasp and restart our game of chase, but Micah’s arms wouldn’t budge. Still, I struggled, and we ended up on the ground, laughing and wrestling and kissing. After we’d done that for a while, we sat against the oak tree, watching the clouds drift by.

“All of our days should be like this,” Micah murmured. “When I couldn’t find you…”

“I know. All I thought about was getting home to you. I just wanted you to find me.”

He hugged me a bit closer. “Instead, you found your way to me.”

“That I did.” I shifted, resting my cheek on Micah’s shoulder. For a silver elf, he was pretty comfortable.

“You know, it was kind of nice being in the Mundane world for so long. Well, except for the whole government-prisoner part,” I added. I leaned across Micah’s chest and traced little circles on the back of his hand. “I don’t think I’d realized how much I missed my old life.”

“Would you prefer to spend your life there?” Micah whispered.

“You’d come with me?” I looked up in time to catch the emotions skating across Micah’s face, despair and resignation giving way to relief. Then I realized that what he’d really asked me was if I’d wanted to live in the Mundane world without him.

Never, not in a million years.

“Hey,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I’m the insecure one, remember?” I rubbed my cheek against his neck. “You’re the strong, silent type.”

He kissed my hair. “Thank you for reminding me.” Micah tugged my arm into his lap and pushed up my sleeve, then placed his wrist next to mine. The copper mark that swirled around his arm matched the silver mark on mine, curve for curve. “It still awes me that you did such a thing,” he murmured.

“I couldn’t leave you,” I said, tracing the copper on his wrist. “You wouldn’t have left me.”

He pulled me against him then, holding me so tightly I could hardly breathe. It struck me then—I’d been right, in a way, while I was mulling over Micah in front of that campfire. My unexpected stint in the Mundane realm had really made Micah think I was unsatisfied with him? Looking back, it made sense. I mean, once Dad returned, he’d started trying to get me to consider dating the only Mundane man that had ever hit on me in front of Micah, and right after that I disappeared for days on end. Not that anything would ever happen between me and Jerome, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Micah’s new wife seemed like she was slipping away not only from him, but from his world, too.

And now, Dad had dropped the bomb that he wanted all of us to move back to the Mundane realm.

“You know I’m not going anywhere, right?” I shifted so I could see Micah’s eyes. He’d let his hair fall over his brow, so I pushed the superfine strands off his forehead. “I belong with you.”

Micah smiled. “You’re right. You do.” He stood, and pulled me up alongside him. “Come, wife. Let me take you inside.”

“Whatever for?” I asked, batting my eyelashes. Micah murmured something rather ungentlemanly in my ear—I didn’t even think he knew those sorts of words. Not that I had any problem with putting those words into action, not in the slightest.

Laughing, we walked through the manor’s front door and right into the middle of a truly epic screaming match between Mom, Dad, and Sadie.

“We need to start using the kitchen entrance,” I muttered. Micah squeezed my hand, and then, like a brave knight of old, stepped into the thick of the battle.

“Please,” he said, putting himself between Sadie and Dad. “Shouting rarely accomplishes anything.”

“He won’t listen!” Sadie shrieked. “I am not anyone’s leader! Of anything! Ever!”

“Sadie!” Dad bellowed. “You are a Corbeau! We do not avoid our duties!”

“This is not my duty,” Sadie retorted.

“She’s my daughter, too,” Mom seethed. “How would you like it if I took her to the brugh and installed her as my scribe?”

“Please!” Micah shouted. “Perhaps we should take a moment to think before things are said that we all regret.”

“Perhaps you should stay out of our family discussions,” Dad said.

I’d had enough. “What is wrong with you?” I demanded, shoving myself in front of Micah and glaring up at my father. “Micah is our family!”