Chapter 44
Hanna
The room was still buzzing with the afterglow of magick when I finally lowered my gaze to the wooden heirloom box resting in my hands.
It felt warm, like it recognized me and it had been waiting.
Savla stood behind me, his chest brushing my shoulder as he leaned in just enough to feel—not crowding, just anchoring.
“You can open it,” he murmured. “If you’re ready.”
Ready? Dear Goddess Mother, is anyone ever ready for moments like this?
My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid and a soft breath of air escaped the box—like the exhale of a memory.
Inside were tools wrapped in aged linen embroidered with my grandmother’s initials.
My initials. HG. Each piece was crafted from dark ashwood, polished to a glossy sheen.
Some were carved with runes while others were simple and worn smooth by years of use.
Mortar and pestle, precision spoons, a moon-blade for cutting herbs, glass vials etched with Greyleaf runes, a stirring wand with a crystal tip, a measuring scale and at the bottom—a small, silver-bound journal.
My breath hitched. I reached for the stirring wand first, and the moment my fingers closed around it—light erupted. Not bright enough to blind—just bright enough to make every hair on my arms rise.
A soft luminescent glow, like distilled moonlight, wrapped around my hand, spiraling up my wrist and blooming across the tool. The wand hummed with warmth, resonating with my magick.
Threads of light unfurled into the air, weaving patterns that looked almost like vines and constellations at once. Gasps echoed around the circle.
“Hanna…” Zara whispered. “It recognizes you.”
Tabitha’s eyes softened. “Your grandmother’s tools have accepted you as her heir,” she said in a soft, gentle voice.
Savla stood utterly still beside me—but the bond wasn’t still at all. It brushed against me, tentative at first, then drawn in like a tide.
I lifted the moon-blade next, and it glowed too, a soft blue shimmer. Almost like it was singing. My heart thudded painfully.
“I can feel her. I can feel Grandmother.”
“You carry her magick,” Tabitha said gently. “Now her tools do as well.”
My eyes stung, vision blurring. Savla stepped forward, moving slow enough that I felt every inch of space he crossed. He took my trembling hands—carefully and reverently—holding them between his.
“Hanna,” he whispered.
The green magick flared brighter. And something in the bond between us—shifted. It was almost like a lock clicking into place. Savla inhaled sharply and his grip on my hands tightened.
“Do you feel that?”
I did. Dear Goddess Mother, I did.
“It’s warm,” I murmured, breath hitching. “Like… like something is waking.”
His forehead lowered to mine instinctively, and my grandmother’s tools—now mine—hummed in response. Light spiraled from them again—this time curling around my hands and his hands, weaving through our fingers like golden thread.
Savla’s bond surged through the contact—steady, warm, grounding—and met mine in the center of my palms. The room faded. Zara, Tabitha, even the candles and the runes. Everything fell away except him. Except us.
My heart raced and the bond pulsed even harder. Those golden threads sparked between our joined hands. And then—they snapped.
Not painfully or violently. It was more like a river bursting its dam.
A bright, golden rush surged through both of us at once. Light exploded in a ring around our feet, spiraling upward in ribbons that intertwined—green for me, gold for him—twisting together into a helix of shared wonder.
My breath caught. “Savla—!” I gasped, unable to believe it.
And his voice broke as he said, “Zoga—”
The world roared with magick. It was warm, brilliant and utterly unstoppable. The bond clicked fully into place—a perfect fit. A completion. A recognition older than our lifetimes.
I felt him.
Not on the outside. I sensed that he was beside me, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t our joined hands or the fact that he was touching me.
This feeling was inside me. He was present inside me in a way that transcended my understanding of what the bond should be. I felt his fear, his gentleness, his heart and above all, his love.
It moved through me like sunlight through glass. He felt me back—I knew he did. His eyes widened, his breath stuttered, his bond wrapped around my magick like a protective embrace.
“Zoga,” he whispered, voice cracking. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
The glow slowly faded, leaving only warmth and a faint shimmer around us. Then Zara and Tabitha erupted in gasps and tears.
And the clan—that I hadn’t realized had come running when they’d heard or seen the magick we were creating—broke into hollers and whoops.
Krusk shouted, “They’re bonded! Finally!”
Enka’s voice rang out, “Pay up! I had first bet!”
Ribbon launched himself at us in a toad-shaped cannonball, hitting Savla from behind and sending him stumbling into me—but neither of us fell. The bond steadied us both. Savla cupped my face with shaking hands, eyes shining like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Hanna,” he breathed again, softer this time. “My Hanna.”
I leaned into him, tears spilling with no shame.
“You,” I whispered. “Always you.”
He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed them—one, then the other—soft, reverent kisses that splintered my heart in the sweetest way. Lights flickered around us, letting us know that my grandmother was still there, giving us her blessing.
And magick still hummed in the air around us. A low blessing chant started around us—my coven adding their special flare to it. The clan started dancing around Ribbon, who claimed the entire circle by sitting in the middle of it.
Tabitha wiped her eyes. “Your grandmother wanted to be here at your impromptu mating ceremony.”
Zara burst into happy tears, pressing her face against Rudgar’s chest. “Our little baby’s bonded. This is the happiest day of my life.”
The celebration ramped up instantly and we were forcibly escorted back to the main gathering room where everyone could fit. More food appeared, drums started and someone popped enchanted confetti that smelled like cinnamon.
But all I could see and all I could feel was Savla. His forehead resting against mine, his breath mingling with mine and the bond pulsing steady and sure between us.
“It’s real,” he murmured, voice trembling with emotion. “I didn’t believe it could be—but it’s real.”
“It’s ours,” I whispered.
He smiled—slow, warm, breathtaking. “A home. A future. A mate.”
A soft hum pulsed through my chest in answer. Then he whispered the words that lit me from the inside out.
“I choose you. In every life.”
I lifted higher on my toes to kiss him, and the whole room cheered.
The dancing hadn’t even started properly when Savla swept me off my feet.
Literally.
One second, I was still reeling from the surge of magick and in the next, a warm, solid arm slid under my knees and another wrapped around my back, lifting me against his chest as if I weighed nothing. I squeaked—an embarrassingly high sound. Savla’s mouth twitched in a rare, boyish smile.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured against my hair.
“I’m not—” I started, but I had to stop.
Because I was absolutely shaking. My fingers curled into the collar of his shirt on instinct.
The bond pulsed, warm and dizzying, rushing heat through my ribs.
Being this close was suddenly too much and not enough all at once.
Every breath I took felt like it belonged partly to him. He held on to me tighter.
And behind us, the clan erupted.
“Oh, look at him!” Enka crowed. “He’s gone feral. He’s never putting her down again!”
“Carrying her straight to his bed!” Zara shouted. “Full romance mode!”
Krusk rumbled, “Don’t listen to them. Take her to your room, lock the door and please say it’s soundproofed.”
“Krusk!” I shrieked, burying my face in Savla’s shoulder.
Dristan cupped his hands around his mouth. “That’s my brother! Show her the—”
“No!” Penelope’s voice rang from the hallway. “No finishing that sentence!”
Becca yelled back, “Let him finish! For science!”
Savla groaned softly into my hair. “They’re never going to stop.”
“No,” I whispered, mortified. “They really aren’t.”
Ribbon—sweet, enormous and completely lacking boundaries—hopped after us, croaking triumphantly like he personally facilitated our union.
Savla adjusted his hold on me and whispered, “Tell me if you want me to put you down.”
I curled my fingers into his shirt. “No. Don’t.”
His breath hitched but he kept walking. The coven parted around us, smiling and murmuring blessings. The lights flickered warm and soft overhead. The laughter and drums faded behind as he carried me down the quiet corridor to the elevator.
My magick flared green against his skin as my fingers brushed his. It recognized him as mine now.
The bond hummed—pure, undeniable connection. Every inhale of his chest brushed mine and every beat of his heart pulsed through my ribs.
It was intoxicating. When the elevator doors closed, silence wrapped around us. Savla’s forehead lowered to mine, his breath trembling.
“Hanna,” he murmured, voice rough, “I can feel everything you’re feeling.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I know.”
“You’re… overwhelmed.”
I swallowed. “Are you?”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his grip tightened—the careful, reverent kind of tight—as if he wanted me closer but was too controlled to take more than I offered.
My mate’s always so controlled. Right up until it snaps.
His thumb brushed my hip and my magick sparked around us. I gasped, and he flinched.
“We have to be careful,” he whispered, almost pained. “The bond is too new—it reacts to everything.”
The elevator dinged open, but he didn’t set me down. He walked straight into his apartment—past the darkened living space, past the half-carved statues that cluttered the area—and into his bedroom.
He placed me on the bed like I was breakable. I wasn’t, but the way he did it made me melt. He straightened but didn’t step back far. His broad frame filled the room, shoulders tight with something trembling between restraint and wanting. I reached for him and his breath shuddered.
“Hanna,” he said softly, “I’ve never—nothing has ever felt like this. The bond… it’s so loud.”
I slid my palm up his arm and along with my green magick, the bond was flaring now, golden, flickering around us.
“What does it feel like to you?” I whispered.
He hesitated, then sat beside me slowly, bracing his elbows on his knees. His hands hung between them, shaking faintly.
“Like I’ve been half-dead for years,” he murmured. “And suddenly, someone turned the world back on.”
My breath caught at his words and he lifted his gaze to meet mine—bare, vulnerable and raw.
“And being near you makes it quiet. You feel like my safe space.”
My heart twisted in my chest, aching for him.
“Come here,” I whispered.
He didn’t move for a moment—as if afraid he’d break me or himself—but eventually he slid closer, slow as sunrise, leaning back on the pillows until he was stretched beside me. I curled myself into him.
Magick flared between us—gentle, green and golden perfectly mixed, slow waves pulsing like shared breath and he let out a soft, broken sound.
“You’re warm,” he whispered into my hair. “And your magick… it wraps around me like a caress.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
He nodded against me. “From the time I lost my parents, nowhere ever felt safe again... But with you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “It’s as if I’m finally home.”
I rested my head on his chest. His arm came around my waist, strong, protective and trembling slightly as if he was still afraid this wasn’t real. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and everything inside me melted.
We lay like that for a long time, wrapped in blankets and each other and the soft thrum of the bond. Savla’s fingers traced lazy circles on my back. My fingers played with a hair on his arm, my magick making it flicker from side to side.
“We’re really bonded,” I whispered.
His breath caught and his hand slid up to cradle the side of my face, thumb brushing my cheek with devastating tenderness.
“I’m yours,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Completely.”
My heart burst open and I lifted my face and kissed him.
Soft, slow with magick humming under my skin.
He kissed me back like he’d waited a lifetime and didn’t quite believe he finally got to.
It always felt like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch me.
When we parted, our foreheads touched again.
“Are you sore?” he asked me, running his hand down my side.
I felt my face flame and I hesitated. I could tell the truth, or I could lie and then possibly get caught. Sighing, I gave a slight nod.
“A little,” I murmured, running my cheek against his chest.
“Okay,” he whispered, pressing his lips against mine. “Can you sleep with me?” he whispered. “Just sleep. I want… I want you here when I dream.”
My chest tightened. “Yes,” I murmured, disappointment filling me, even though I knew I needed another night of recovery time. We curled together under the blankets, the bond warm and steady—no longer searching or strained or uncertain.
Just right.
And as sleep pulled me under, the last thing I felt was Savla’s arms tightening protectively around me and him whispering one truth through the bond.
Mine.