Blue Blood (Series of Blood Book 3) by Emma Hamm (books to read this summer .txt) 📕

was surrounded by what was the closest thing she had to family.

He had only seen cracks in her tough exterior a few times. There was no rhyme or reason to what would make her smile. The rush of wind through her hair, maybe, or perhaps the thrill of the chase.

Jasper wasn’t certain he would ever be able to make sense of her.

Her eyes seemed to catch fire as they stared into him. His chest heated, as though she had lit a spark inside of him as well.

Bluebell sighed. “She’s so pretty. Like a gemstone.”

A low, rumbling growl vibrated his throat.

“She is! Look at her!”

He was. He looked at her in the same way a man on a frozen tundra would stare into a warm blaze. She was color and light all wrapped in a singular form. A creature captured for one moment that could easily slip through his fingers.

“...but we always hated thinking of her all alone. Wouldn’t you agree, Jasper?” The Hag looked at him.

Jasper blinked a few times and realized all of them were staring at him. His cheeks heated with a blush he was thankful his beard partially hid. Had he been staring at Mercy this whole time? He couldn’t recall anything the Hag had said.

“I-I’m sorry, what?”

Tiny burst into laughter that made Jasper’s eardrums ache. “She was saying she is glad you found our Mercy and that she’s not alone anymore. A big strong man to take care of her can’t hurt.”

“A big strong—” Jasper parroted seconds before Mercy interrupted.

“We’re not together.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Our paths are the same for now. They will split again.”

“Oh.” The Hag twisted her gnarled hands. “We thought perhaps you and Jasper were… Well.”

“No.” Mercy shook her head firmly. “No.”

“Oh.”

The awkwardness in the camp was thick enough to cut with a butter knife; even Tiny appeared uncomfortable. Strange how just a few days with Mercy had changed Jasper’s opinions. Maybe he simply needed something to hold on to. The woman made of flames was burning every other memory out of his mind.

“Besides,” Mercy said as she leaned back onto her hands, “he has another woman. Her name is Lyra.”

He recoiled. “How do you know that?”

“You call her name in your sleep.”

Again, Jasper felt the collective eyes of the creatures on him, bouncing back and forth between Mercy and him. They appeared to think this was a great show. And perhaps it was. For all he knew, these people who had locked themselves away in the woods didn’t get out much.

“Lyra is a very dear friend.”

“I’d say more than that,” Mercy corrected.

“Maybe at one time.”

“Not now?”

“Not ever. She found her happiness in the arms of a dead man.”

Other women might have pried, might have asked what he meant, who Lyra was, why he called her name in his sleep. But not Mercy. She narrowed her eyes, and nodded sharply.

Even calling Wolfgang a dead man did not peak her interest. Fascinating, Jasper thought. She was an enigma of a woman.

The awkward feeling between the two of them disappeared.

He was staring at her again. He couldn’t help it. She drew his eyes and he was helpless against her allure.

The spell was broken when the Centaur ambled to his feet. The creature shook his entire body before grumbling, “Might as well go to bed if this is what’s going to happen.”

The others left, one at a time and in small groups They melted into the darkness like shadows, and Jasper suddenly understood with great clarity how they had remained hidden for so long. Their footsteps were silent, and they used the woods to their advantage.

Mercy stood and brushed off the bright fabric wrapped around her body.

He cleared his throat. “They’re amazing. This entire place feels like a dream.”

“This is the real world. Not your pretty little bubble of a city.”

“I like it.”

“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “You look like you’re afraid of them.”

“I was. They are startling when you don’t know what to expect. But the more they speak, the less I notice the differences.”

She looked at him in that strange way again. The kind of way that suggested she might believe him. Or perhaps that she was as interested in him as he was in her.

Mercy shook her head and reached into the fire for her strange companion. Ignes clung to the coals stubbornly, so she roughly brushed them away from the lizard. He could hear her quietly scolding Ignes for his behavior before she rolled her eyes and let him be.

“Ignes would like to stay where he is tonight. Come, I’ll show you your tent.”

“I have a tent?” he asked.

She walked away from him without answering. The moonlight outlined her body, radiating a soft glow. In the darkness, she was more flame than human.

Their feet crunched through twigs on the ground and rattled stones. He had never thought he’d want a pair of boots more than breathing, but he was beginning to understand the power of small luxuries. Jasper’s tolerance for uneven ground had disappeared the day he had left the farm.

This place reminded him of his childhood. Not of his family or his home, but of the feelings that resided deep inside him. The Fairy that possessed him was not the only one who loved the wilderness. A buried part of himself was comfortable here.

Dirt had no mouth to speak. Plants had no thoughts to doubt. Trees did not think less of him because of his wings. Nature was kind while people were cruel.

Jasper paused as his mouth gaped open. “They didn’t mention my wings.”

“No, they didn’t,” Mercy said.

“Why?”

“Did you think they would? You’re the prettiest one here. Try living fifteen feet taller than everyone else or being an old woman your entire life. A set of wings is nothing to them.”

And not once did he feel their eyes upon him in judgement. The Hag had smiled at him. The Centaur had ignored him. Even the Thunderbird did not notice his wings fluttering. They were stranger than