Daisy (Book 6 of The Land of the Forgotten Series)

Belize

The human realm

Daisy Logan rolled over in the bed and sighed softly, the sound drifting into the warm, salt-scented air of the bungalow. Her cheek sank into the cool cotton pillow, and the early morning light warmed her shoulders through the sheer curtains. For a moment, she lay still, letting herself float between waking and dreaming, suspended in the gentle sway of waves beneath the floorboards.

This entire week had been one of the most magical, indulgent, ridiculous weeks of her life. Everything about it felt unreal in the best possible way: the endless horizon of turquoise water, the sunset dinners, the lazy mornings tangled in Lucius’ arms, and the quiet intimacy that only came when the rest of the world disappeared.

She didn’t want it to end. She hated that it had to. Paradise had an expiration date, apparently. Reality, annoyingly, did not.

Daisy stretched an arm across the bed, reaching instinctively for him. Her fingers found only cool sheets. But his absence didn’t worry her. She just felt a small ache upon waking up alone.

Lucius wandered sometimes. He liked to watch the sunrise. He said it made him feel like he was getting ahead of the day before it could start demanding things from him. More often lately, she’d woken to find him gone for a few minutes only to return with coffee or pastries or that soft, almost shy smile he saved only for her.

She pushed up onto her elbows and blinked toward the open glass doors. The ocean glittered like scattered diamonds, each wave catching fire under the rising sun. A light breeze stirred the curtains, lifting them in lazy, graceful arcs.

It was beautiful here. Too beautiful. The kind of beauty that made you want to freeze time.

Lucius had surprised her with this trip for their five-year anniversary. No hints, no buildup, and no suspiciously thoughtful behavior beforehand. Instead, he’d simply shown up at her apartment one morning, kissed her senseless, and told her to pack a swimsuit.

She’d laughed and teased him for being dramatic, but he’d only shrugged in that quiet, charming way of his and said, “Just trust me.”

And she did. She always did.

But something inside her, a small flutter she couldn’t explain, had tugged at her ever since they’d landed. Not a warning. Not even a bad feeling. More like a faint itch under her skin, a restlessness that had nothing to do with Lucius and everything to do with... something else. Something she didn’t have the words for.

Maybe it was because she felt too good here. Too alive. Too much like a version of herself she could almost remember but didn’t recognize.

Daisy swung her legs out of the bed, letting her feet touch the cool wood planks. The bungalow swayed softly, suspended over water so clear she could see the shadows of fish drifting lazily below. A warm, drowsy peace wrapped around her.

She inhaled deeply. Salt. Heat. Coffee. Coffee?

A smile tugged at her lips just as footsteps sounded on the deck.

Lucius.

She knew it a heartbeat before he stepped into view, his silhouette filling the doorway with his messy blond hair and two cups in hand. He was barefoot, sun-kissed, and smiling at her like she was the only thing he’d woken up happy about.

Her chest tightened with affection, comfort, longing... and something bittersweet that made her throat sting.

She loved him. She did.

But she was starting to understand that loving someone and keeping them forever were not the same thing.

And she didn’t know why her heart suddenly seemed to know it before her mind did.

Lucius stepped into the room with that warm, sleepy smile of his, the one that always made Daisy’s chest feel too tight. Sunlight slid over his shoulders, catching in the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the ones he insisted were “premature” but that she secretly adored.

“Morning, trouble,” he said softly, his voice rumbling in that low, familiar way that always made her stomach flip. He held out one of the cups. “Thought you’d want this before we go ruin ourselves with croissants.”

Daisy accepted the coffee with a grateful sigh, wrapping both hands around it as he leaned down to kiss her temple. His lips lingered longer than her brain was ready for, and the gentle affection of it made her heart pull tight, a warm ache settling beneath her ribs.

Five years, and he still kissed her like she mattered.

She looked up at him, brushing her fingers across his jaw. “You’re entirely too good to me.”

He snorted. “Please. You’ve put up with me for half a decade. This trip barely scratches the surface of what you deserve.”

She laughed, soft and genuine. He sat beside her on the bed, shoulder brushing hers as they sipped their coffees and watched the morning stretch across the water.

They didn’t need to talk. They rarely did in moments like this. Their silences had always been easy. She’d never had that with anyone before him. Anyone else had made silence feel like something she needed to fill. With Lucius, it was simply companionable, the way being loved should feel.

He nudged her knee with his. “Last day. What’s the plan? Want to go into the water again?”

“You just want to see me in that bikini,” she accused with a grin.

“That’s true,” he admitted without shame. “But I also want to hear you laugh like you did yesterday. I haven’t seen you that carefree in a long time.”

Daisy’s chest tightened again with that same warm ache that had been following her all week. She reached out and brushed her fingers over his knuckles. “Then let’s go make the most of it.”

And they did.

They spent hours in the crystalline water, drifting and splashing and teasing each other. Lucius wasn’t the strongest swimmer, but he tried for her, laughing every time she darted away from him just out of reach. At one point, he caught her around the waist and hauled her against him, both of them breathless and dripping.

“Got you,” he murmured, forehead pressed to hers.

“You let me go twice.”

“You’re slippery,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Or maybe I’m just slow this morning.”

She laughed, her fingers curling behind his neck. “Slow? You? Since when?”

The soft flush across his cheekbones made her heart flutter.

This was why she loved him. Not the perfect moments. Not the grand gestures. But the warm, quiet ones that made her feel like someone worth choosing.

Later, they walked hand in hand down the pier, stopping every ten steps to point out fish or shells or the way the sunlight rippled under the boards. He bought her a flower from a local woman by the docks, tucking the white petals behind her ear. Daisy practically melted.

“Pretty,” he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw.

“You’re biased.”

“Absolutely.”

They had lunch on the beach, their toes buried in warm sand, sharing plates the way they always did because Daisy could never decide what she wanted and Lucius always let her steal from his.

He fed her a piece of mango. She fed him a bite of grilled fish. And somewhere between the laughter and the sun and the easy affection, her heart squeezed again.

This man loved her. And she loved him.

That was what made the quiet shift inside her so confusing. So impossible to name.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was good. But something in her kept whispering that she couldn’t keep him forever.

Not because he wasn’t enough. He was more than enough. But because something in her bones said her path was going to fork in a way she couldn’t see yet.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t want it, and she wished she could silence it.

But each time she looked at Lucius, each time he smiled at her in that soft way, it tugged at her again.

When the sun began to set, they returned to the bungalow and showered the salt from their skin, taking their time. Lucius washed the sand from her calves. She kissed the droplets off his collarbone. They moved around each other the way people do when they’ve learned each other by heart.

That evening felt different.

Not in a bad way. Nothing with Lucius ever felt bad. But there was a softness to him she couldn’t ignore. There was reverence in the way he looked at her. Like he was memorizing her.

Daisy tried not to read into it, tried not to let her chest tighten every time his thumb brushed her knuckles or he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He kissed her shoulder while they stood on the deck watching the sun slip beneath the horizon, his arms wrapped loosely around her waist.