“It’s tomorrow,” Neal reminded her. “In the evening.”

“No, it’s a little longer than that,” Gizelle insisted. “But not much.”

Neal suspected they were not talking about the same thing. “The wedding?” he clarified.

“No,” Gizelle said with an oddly sad smile. “The end.”

“The end of... what?”

“Of me. Of everything.” Her hands were shaking, and as soon as she realized it, Gizelle tucked them into fists and put them behind her, smiling fiercely. “Nevermind,” she said swiftly. “It’s quiet now. I will come to your wedding. I did carry flowers for Darla.”

“Do you want to carry flowers for us?” Neal asked, not at all sure what to make of her doomsaying. He was pretty sure he shouldn’t take her literally.

“I’ll ask Graham!” Gizelle said enthusiastically, which Neal had to take as a yes.

Then she was gone, flying away on fleet, bare feet.

Neal was still shaking his head when he returned to the cottage he was sharing with Mary.

“Did you finally catch up with Gizelle?” she asked at once, perhaps sensing his bemusement as he laid a kiss on her head.

“She’s come a long ways,” Neal said. The Gizelle who had first transformed to save him would never have given a willing hug, let alone two of them.

“She tried to explain to me that Jenny was the one who taught her how to shift when I finally saw her yesterday,” Mary said, putting aside her book. “What did you two talk about?”

Neal laughed. “I think she has a skewed sense of causality,” he observed. “She also seemed to think she just saved my life.”

Mary pulled him down to kiss her. “Then I owe her a great debt of gratitude,” she purred in his ear. “Because you’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow, and I’d hate to have to marry a corpse.”

“That could be... messy,” Neal agreed with a chuckle. “Depending on the method of death. And we paid a lot for the suit.”

They shared a long, lingering kiss that somehow ended up with both of them wedged uncomfortably into a chair that barely held Neal alone.

“I can’t wait to share the rest of my life with you,” Mary sighed, as they untangled their limbs and pried themselves out the wicker chair.

“Can you wait until we get to the bed?” Neal teased.

Mary kissed him in answer, and they only just made it there.

It was only much later that Neal remembered Gizelle’s odd prediction and wondered what she meant by the end that was coming...


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Tags: Zoe Chant Shifting Sands Resort Fantasy