E L L E

Adrian has been off ever since the docks, not angry or cold. Just… somewhere else, like he’s listening to something I can’t hear. A storm beneath his ribs, trying to break through the calm of his expression. He walked me back to the clinic, said he had “meetings,” but the way his jaw worked said otherwise. And when I touched his wrist, barely, just a brush of fingers he flinched like I’d pressed on a bruise.

I should’ve pushed, I should’ve made him talk, but I’m a coward too, sometimes. So when Selene texted asking if I wanted to go with her to Aurelia for a few hours, I said yes before thinking it through. Maybe I needed the distance and maybe he did too.

But when I turned back at the ferry ramp… Adrian was there. Standing above on the boardwalk, hands in his pockets, looking at me like the ocean had swallowed something important, and he didn’t call me back.

Aurelia hits like a warm breath the second we step off the ferry: humid, golden, brighter than Seraphine in a way that feels almost indecent. Jungle heat presses against my skin, sticky and sweet, smelling like mango trees and wet earth after rainfall.

Selene loops her arm through mine immediately. “You look like your soul crawled out of your body,” she says, gently, not judging. Her braid falls over one shoulder, sun catching the wisps around her face like golden thread. Out of all the Valcrosses, she’s the only one who radiates warmth without expecting anything back.

I try to smile, It probably fails. “Rough morning.”

“Adrian again?” The way she says his name, gentle, but knowing, makes something in my chest shift painfully.

“He’s…” I trail off, because I don’t have a word. “Distant and off, like he’s thinking ten steps ahead but won’t tell me what the game even is.”

Selene hums like this confirms a theory she already had. “He does that. Should’ve seen him after a near-drowning when he was sixteen. Locked himself in his room for two days and came out pretending nothing happened.” She nudges me softly. “He thinks if he holds everything together, nothing will crack. Including himself.”

The jungle path curves upward, wooden planks warm beneath our feet. Birds chatter somewhere overhead, loud and messy. I’m too tightly wound to appreciate it.

“I’m not asking him to fall apart,” I say quietly. “I just… I want him to let me in.”

Selene squeezes my arm. “He will. He’s just… terrified you’ll see the parts he hides from everyone else.”

I swallow hard. “Maybe I already do.”

The path widens, opening into a sunlit clearing where butterflies flit lazily across the ferns. It should relax me, instead it makes my heart feel too big for my ribs.  I left the island to get space from him, but somehow I miss him more out here.

We stop beneath a canopy of giant leaves, the kind that could cover a whole table, glossy and heavy with dew. Selene hands me a bottle of iced hibiscus tea she pulled from her bag, why she always has perfectly chilled drinks on her, I’ll never know.

She takes a sip of hers, eyeing me over the rim. “So,” she says. “Tell me what you’re actually thinking, not the doctor-safe version.”

I huff a laugh. “There’s a doctor-safe version?”

“Yes and you hide behind it like armor.” Her smile softens the sting. “You’re allowed to want things, Elara. Him, included.”

God. My stomach flips. “Wanting him isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“I’m scared,” I admit, surprising myself with how quickly it comes out. “I’ve been in situations where needing someone meant losing myself. He’s… intense and complicated. He feels like a gravitational pull, and I’m not sure I know how to stay grounded around him.”

Selene bumps her shoulder against mine. “He’s scared too, you know.”

“Of what? He’s Adrian. He survives anything.”

“Exactly,” she says softly. “He’s been surviving for so long he doesn’t know how to do anything else. Letting someone in? That means someone can hurt him.” She breathes out a quiet sigh. “You’re the first person who’s ever made him want to try.”

My chest tightens in a way that’s almost painful. “He pulled away this morning. Like he was hiding something.”

Selene’s expression shifts, something flickering, something protective, but she doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push. She simply links her fingers with mine. “Then give him space to catch up. Adrian doesn’t open doors. He tests the hinges first.”

I laugh, a thin, tired sound. “Is that a Valcrosse proverb?”

“No,” she says, grinning now. “That one’s mine.”

The jungle thins as we walk, giving way to a narrow stone arch that looks older than any resort on the island, carved vines, faded symbols of little winged shapes that might be insects or stars. Selene brushes her hand over the stone.

“Firefly Grove,” she says. “You’re going to love this.”

It doesn’t look like much at first, just a shaded hollow where the canopy filters sunlight into golden stripes. But when we step inside, the air changes. Warmer and softer like stepping into the memory of a summer night, and then I see them.

Tiny sparks flickering in the shadows. Just a few at first, drifting lazily between the roots and the ferns, blinking on and off like shy little heartbeats.

My breath catches. “Oh.”

Selene smiles, her voice dropping to a whisper. “They’re early, they usually don’t come out until dusk.”

One of them drifts close to my hand, brightening as if curious. Selene watches it with a knowing tilt of her head.

“Legend says they only glow like this when someone carries a heavy heart,” she murmurs. “Or when someone’s about to make a choice that changes everything.”

A shiver runs up my spine. The firefly hovers near my fingertips, light pulsing gently, almost… inviting. God. Why does everything on this island feel like it sees right through me?

Selene brushes her hand over my shoulder. “I’ll give you a minute,” she says quietly, already turning back toward the grove’s edge.

“Selene…”

She just smiles. “I’ll be close. Take your time.” And then she’s gone, footsteps disappearing into the trees with barely a sound. I turn back under the arch and he’s there.

Adrian.

I don’t even hear him approach, I just feel it. The weight of him behind me, the sharp heat of his gaze dragging across my skin before his hands ever touch. But when they do—God. One palm slides around my waist, the other anchors low on my back, and he pulls me against his chest like he needs to feel every inch of me just to believe I’m real.

“You left without saying goodbye,” he says, voice low, rough.

“You didn’t ask me to stay.”

His breath catches, and then his mouth is on my neck. Hot, open, hungry, I gasp, hand flying to his wrist as he kisses up beneath my ear, slow and sure, like he’s been waiting to taste this exact patch of skin for hours.

“I didn’t want to drag you into what’s coming,” he murmurs, lips brushing my jaw. “But fuck, Elara… I can’t stay away.”

He spins me, presses me gently back against the warm stone arch. Our mouths crash together. His kiss is everything I’ve been aching for sharp, devouring and desperate. His hands roam, under my shirt, across my ribs, down to grip my thighs and lift. I wrap my legs around his waist without thinking.

“Say no,” he breathes. “Say slow, and I’ll stop.”

I drag my fingers through his hair and whisper, “Don’t you dare.” He lowers to his knees and God help me. The jungle presses in, hot and fragrant, as he pushes up my skirt and kisses the inside of my thigh like a vow. His breath ghosts over my panties then he pulls them aside and licks me, one long, filthy stroke.

I cry out, hands slamming against the stone behind me. “Adrian..”

“I need this,” he says, voice wrecked. “I need you like this. Right now.”

His mouth devours me, he’s tongue circling my clit, then flattening against it, relentless and raw. I’m gasping, moaning, lost. He grips my thighs, holding me open like I’m sacred and untouchable and his all at once. I come hard, bucking against his mouth, crying out into the canopy. He groans like he’s starving on my pleasure alone.

Then he stands, and we kiss again, desperate, open, needy and I feel him hard against me through his pants, aching. I start to fumble for his belt.

He grabs my hands. “Elara..”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I want to.. I just…”

I press my forehead to his. My voice breaks. “Not here.” He closes his eyes like that kills him, but then he kisses me again, softer this time.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Not here.”

He gently lowers me to the mossy ground, tugs my skirt back into place, smooths my hair from my face like I might break.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. He shakes his head, thumb brushing my cheek. “Don’t be. You’re allowed to want more than just heat.”

I close my eyes. “I want everything.”

He kisses my temple. “Then I’ll wait for all of it.” His fingers stay laced with mine. We sit in silence, catching our breath. Every nerve in my body is still trembling, but my heart… my heart feels steady. Like maybe this is what trust feels like. The choice to stop and the promise not to disappear when it does.

It starts with one. A single firefly, bright and pulsing, drifting between us like a secret, then another, then a dozen. They circle us slowly, rising and falling like they’re dancing in time with our breath. Adrian watches them, awe softening every line of his face.

“They’ve never done this before,” he says quietly.

The grove glows around us. Dozens, no, hundreds of lights hover in the air, encircling us. A halo, a warning or a blessing. I don’t know which. I look at him, and he’s staring at me like the answer is already written in the light.

“Elara,” he whispers. “They’ve chosen.” And just like that, the world stops breathing.