Chapter 50
Hanna
For a long moment after the final details of our new homes were in place and the blueprints had been marked up for finalization, everyone just stood there, taking in the lake like they were afraid to break the silence.
The water caught the sunlight in ripples of silver and blue.
Wind swept across the surface and carried the freshest air I’d ever breathed straight into my lungs.
Savla watched me instead of the scenery, and I felt it—the way the air changed around him, the way the bond warmed softly like a flickering hearth. Then he stepped closer.
“Come with me,” he murmured, voice low enough to vibrate under my skin.
I didn’t hesitate. He guided me toward the far edge of the clearing, down a small path between two old birch trees. Their silver-white trunks leaned inward slightly, forming a natural archway. The moment we passed under it, everything felt quieter—shielded.
Savla stopped where the ground dipped gently toward the lake. Moss and soft grass cushioned our steps. The water lapped gently at smooth stones, and sunlight reflected upward in shimmering dance-like patterns.
“This is where I want the bedroom window,” he said quietly.
My heart did something completely undignified.
“Oh,” I whispered, breath catching.
His gaze tracked the lake, thoughtful.
“Imagine waking up to this every morning,” he said. “Before anything else. Before the world can touch us.”
I swallowed. “It’s beautiful.”
He turned, face inches from mine.
“It’s peaceful,” he corrected softly. “And you… need peaceful.”
His hand rose slowly—hesitant, gentle and reverent—like he was approaching a wild creature that might flee. He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and my breath hitched in my chest.
“I want you to have somewhere you feel safe,” he murmured.
“I do,” I whispered. “With you.”
Something flickered in his eyes—love, hope, hunger and devotion—before he leaned his forehead against mine. We stayed like that, breathing the same air, the bond humming warm and quiet.
And then—
Splat.
A wet, heavy weight hit the earth behind us, shaking the ground. Savla sighed a long-suffering sigh.
“Ribbon.”
We turned. Ribbon was soaking wet from what I assumed was an impromptu dip in the lake and… sitting, but not just sitting.
Claiming.
His enormous, round body was plopped directly in the center of the cleared area the clan had marked for our house.
A loud croak from him summoned everyone to what we’d previously been enjoying as a private moment.
Then he made eye contact with all thirty people present and croaked once again, even louder.
Dristan chuckled. “He’s… reserving the lot.”
Krusk folded his arms. “Like a boulder saving a parking spot.”
Zara gasped. “He thinks he’s your property marker!”
Penelope laughed from where she stood beside Dristan. “Aw, he’s helping.”
Savla pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s not helping.”
Ribbon croaked again, louder, as if offended by the accusation. Then he sprawled dramatically across the soil like a toad-shaped carpet, tongue flicking victoriously in the air.
“He’s helping,” I said.
Savla gave me a resigned look. “He’s helping.”
Before he could pull me close again, a commotion erupted behind us.
Of course.
Enka was waving coins around. “Okay! Bets are now open! Odds are two-to-one that Darak is in love with the engineer!”
Darak—who’d been trying to look stoic and professional—glared at Enka like he was going to murder him.
Krusk leaned over. “Five says he’s already texted her.”
Darak sputtered. “I have not.”
Zara grinned wickedly. “Ten says he already practiced a conversation in the mirror.”
Tasia chimed in, “Twenty says he wrote a draft proposal for efficient cohabitation.”
Darak slapped his notebook shut. “There is no proposal!”
Enka peeked over his shoulder. “Brother, why does it say ‘ideal structural compatibility between two adults’ on the first page?”
Darak let out a sound that was half-growl, half-squeak.
Pen whispered to me, “He’s doomed.”
I whispered back, “Completely.”
Savla murmured, “Pathetic,” under his breath, but he was smiling.
Tabitha clapped once, loud enough to command attention.
“Alright, you unhinged bunch,” she said. “We’re grounding the land.”
The coven gathered in a loose circle around the clearing. The orcs formed a protective ring around us by instinct—shoulders squared, eyes scanning the trees, ready to defend against threats that absolutely did not exist. Except maybe Ribbon, who tried to hop into the circle.
“No,” Savla sighed, catching him by the stomach and dragging him back. “You stay here.”
Ribbon croaked his betrayal while Tabitha lifted her staff. The air shifted instantly, the breeze quieting, the lake settling into a near-perfect mirror.
Light trickled through the canopy and gathered in strands along the circle’s edge. The coven began to chant—low, steady syllables that resonated through the moss, the water and the stones beneath our feet. Magick threaded outward like roots seeking purchase, anchoring the land to us and us to it.
The circle glowed faint gold, the ground warmed and the air thickened with potential. I felt my magick stir, responding instinctively. It curled around Savla’s bond like a vine wrapping a pillar—soft, certain and inevitable.
He felt it too and his hand found mine without looking. We laced our fingers together. The bond pulsed—slow, warm and sure. When the spell finished, a soft breeze swept through the clearing like a sigh of welcome.
Tabitha smiled. “The land accepts you.”
Dristan nodded solemnly. “Then let’s build.”
The clan whooped while the coven cheered. Ribbon croaked triumphantly and slapped his webbed foot onto the soil again, reaffirming it was his. And Savla leaned down, lips brushing my temple, voice warm and steady.
“Our home,” he murmured.
My heart answered before my lips did. “Yes.”
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