DEMETRIA

“Come on, Wildfire. I promised to show you the stables.” Marion stood, hand stretched. I looked at him, glancing at his parents and back at him.

“Go ahead, my dear. He wants you for himself. We’ll continue talking later.” Mrs. Whitfield said, smiling as she stared at her son and me.

I hesitated for only a moment before slipping my hand into his. His grip was firm, steady, and the warmth of it sent a flutter through my chest. Marion’s mother’s smile lingered as if she ...