Gravebriar

by Casey L. Bond

Sometimes letting someone go because it was best for them was the most difficult thing in the world.

“If you were in love with me, you’d know never to do that again,” I warned.

“In all seriousness,” he began, his smirk spreading, “how do you feel about pet names?” I chuckled darkly. “How do you feel about dying at such a young age?”

“Comfortable?” He darkly chuckled, throwing his head back and staring at the starlit sky. “I think your plan might have backfired, because I’m going to need a lot more kisses like that in the very near future.”

“We’re acting,” I reminded him, but somehow the words felt half-hearted. I wondered if they sounded the same way. Forge slid an arm around my waist and pulled me in for another quick

kiss, one that made my toes curl. “I like acting. Acting is my new favorite pastime.” “Since when?” I laughed. “Since I began acting with you.”

I smiled, hoping I got a chance to see my reflection before the spell wore off. “Have you thought of a name for me?” Forge smiled and his molten eyes glittered like the stars in the sky. “Lilith. It means darkness,” Forge said. “We’ll pass you off as a Shade with very little magic.”

Forge chuckled as we walked toward the tent. He tucked the rest of his coins away and shot me an approving grin. “That was perfect.”

“Now who’s feeling a little jealous?” he quipped as we approached two unusually tall men standing by the tent flaps.