Elijah was meant to be there, savoring the night air, the clean breeze coming through the forest, free from the taint of decay. Victor couldn’t get over how right he looked. An idea took root inside him. Maybe he could allow himself to have this, and it wouldn’t prove he was weak. It might be okay for him to be close to magic, as long as it was Elijah. If Elijah let him, if Elijah wanted to stay, wanted to be with him, with his pack.
