Chapter 22
Hayden
“We can always duck out,” Levi murmurs, leaning close, breath warm against my ear. “Claim a floral emergency.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You love it here, Levi. You’re glowing. I wouldn’t pull you away.”
He tilts his head slightly. “Just making sure you know where my priorities lie.”
“I do,” I say. “And I’m learning what mine are, too.”
I lean in, closing the distance between us, and press a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips. Soft and quiet. When I pull away, his cheeks are flushed.
Levi exhales and squeezes my hand. “Let’s head back in. I saw them bringing out bacon-wrapped dates and I am starving.”
“You’re a menace.”
He grins lightly and pulls me toward the patio door. But my eyes catch something familiar…a flash of floral fabric and carefully coiffed hair across the patio.
“Go ahead,” I say, touching Levi’s elbow. “I’ll be right behind you.” My shadows coil; the old life never knocks, only appears.
He pauses, confusion threading his voice. “You sure?”
“I just need a moment.”
Levi eyes me for a second but nods, squeezing my hand once more before disappearing inside.
I take a steadying breath as I cross the patio, shadows coiling in on high alert.
“Lorraine,” I call out, stopping in front of the woman leaning against the railing.
She smiles, too knowingly for my liking. “Hayden. And how are we enjoying our mortal amusements these days?”
“What are you doing here?”
She tilts her head, regarding me quietly. “Checking in. Your threads have gotten tangled lately. Quite tangled indeed.”
I glance toward the restaurant, where I’m sure Levi is mingling and smiling at everyone he meets. “My threads?” I ask. “Don’t you tire of weaving your riddles, Lorraine? What do you really want?”
“You know, Hayden, mortal hearts are fragile things. You’ve always been proficient at handling others’, but are you ready to confront your own? Tangling yourself so completely with this one…” She pauses, eyes appraising me. “It could complicate things.”
Frustration simmers beneath my skin. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh,” she murmurs, amused, “he has everything to do with this. Careful, Hayden…once you’ve tasted true vulnerability, true connection, stepping back becomes impossible.”
I swallow hard, fists clenching. “Is that a warning or a threat?”
“Neither. Merely a truth. Your heart is awakening, which makes your threads delicate. Be careful how you weave them.”
She slips into the darkness, leaving me alone with a haze of thoughts.
I exhale, steadying myself before heading back inside.
Across the low hum of conversation, I spot Levi.
He’s smiling, eyes gentle, utterly in his element.
Delilah laughs loudly at something he’s said, and I catch the ease in his posture, the brightness that always seems to follow him.
He’s so vividly alive it makes my entire being ache to share in that brightness.
I move toward him, smoothing the tension from my expression.
“There you are,” he murmurs when I reach him.
I return his smile. “Here I am.” My shadows slip toward him, offering comfort where my words falter.
Levi studies my face, the joy in his expression dimming just slightly. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I say too quickly, reaching for my drink to disguise the lie. “Just a work thing.”
He nods slowly, though I can see the gears turning behind his eyes. The way he tucks the question away for later as if he knows I’m not telling him everything.
As the evening winds down, laughter softens into murmurs and lingering goodbyes. Dominic, with a mischievous grin, leans into Levi. “Come on, just one drink at Franny’s. Keep the night alive!”
Elijah elbows Levi playfully. “Besides, we’ve still got stories from college you haven’t heard yet, Hayden.”
I shake my head gently, offering a careful smile. “I appreciate the temptation, but I have an early morning.” The excuse is plausible enough to be believed, even if Levi’s reading between the lines in the way only he can.
He doesn’t press. Instead, he steps closer, reaching up to cup my jaw, thumb tracing across my cheekbone as he tilts his face toward mine. When he kisses me, it’s slow and deliberate, adoration woven through each careful brush of lips.
“Sleep well, Funeral Guy.”
“You, too,” I murmur, stepping carefully back into the embrace of night. Not quite retreating into my shadows, but not quite stepping into the light, either.
· · ·
Sleep eludes me. The bedroom ceiling stares back, dull and carefully blank. Lorraine’s words loop through my thoughts, a refrain of twisted threads, tangled destinies, quiet warnings echoed in infuriating rhythms.
Seby purrs at the foot of the bed. “You’re no help,” I mutter, running fingers through his fur. His amber eyes blink, acknowledging my unrest without offering solutions.
If Lorraine believes she can upend my life, perhaps I can return the favor.
I rise and get dressed.
Outside, Stonevale sleeps under moonlight. City hall looms ahead, its facade calm as I approach.
Inside, lights flicker, casting shadows across polished floors, and when I open the office door, Lorraine, Constance, and Agnes sit ready in the silence.
Lorraine lifts her gaze first. “Hayden, what an unexpected pleasure at this hour.”
“Thought I’d return the favor,” I reply, turmoil threading through my chest. “You’ve been meddling. Again.”
Constance taps a finger against the stack of papers in front of her, amusement in her voice. “We don’t meddle, Hayden. We merely observe.”
“Observation with unnecessary commentary is meddling,” I counter, stepping forward. “Lorraine seemed particularly curious about my mortal affairs.”
Lorraine meets my gaze. “Your threads have become tangled, Hayden. Choices, careful or otherwise, have complicated the patterns. We’ve noticed your…withdrawal from certain pursuits.”
“Perhaps I’m questioning my priorities,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Perhaps I’m realizing what I’ve been chasing isn’t as valuable as I once thought.”
Agnes carefully leans forward, her voice probing. “And clarity rarely comes without complication. A certain mortal thread weaving into yours, perhaps?”
“Levi isn’t part of your game.”
Constance’s smile is knowing. “But he is part of yours now, isn’t he? Your threads weave more deeply than we’ve seen in a long while. Threads tighten, Hayden. Tighter than you realize. And when they do…something always gives.”
I can’t help but think how every secret I keep from him feels heavier than the last. I’ve always lived by restraint, by control…but the closer he gets, the harder it is to remember why the distance ever felt like safety.
“You’re not the only one whose threads have shifted recently, Hayden,” Lorraine interjects, voice cool as if she’s delivering a diagnosis. “Your careful detachment has created ripples. Threads of those closest to you, family threads, have shifted in response.”
Zane’s and Porter’s faces flash through my mind. Zane’s careful, controlled strength, and Porter’s quiet, measured kindness. My brothers. Distant but always connected.
“They’ve reached out to you,” I say softly, realization hitting.
“We have spoken recently with those whose threads are tied to yours,” Lorraine confirms. “They’re aware of the changes within you.”
The idea that Zane and Porter, who have each carved new mortal paths, have sensed something shifting within me feels significant. Or unsettling.
I steady my voice. “What did they want?”
It’s Agnes who speaks up. “They wanted to know if you’d found what you’ve been searching for. They worry for you, Hayden. Perhaps more than you’ve realized.”
The words land heavy in my chest. My brothers, still tied to me despite the silence we’ve maintained.
“And what did you tell them?” I ask, trying to ignore the slight tremble in my voice.
Lorraine smiles. “We told them your threads are complicated. Tangled. And that perhaps, you are beginning to reconsider your…isolation.”
“I haven’t decided that.”
Constance leans forward. “Then perhaps it’s time you consider what you truly want, Hayden. Is this still the life you wish to lead?”
I pause, irritation coiling tight in my chest. Constance’s words snag, threading through me whether I want them to or not. And I don’t want them anywhere near me.
“I don’t know,” I snap. “And frankly, I don’t think you do, either.”
Their smiles deepen; they’re unfazed by my outburst. “Then perhaps the threads are guiding you toward a new pattern,” Agnes says. “One you’ve avoided until now.”
My teeth grit. “Or, maybe you’re just seeing what you want to see.”
“Be careful, Hayden,” Lorraine warns. “Turning a blind eye to the threads rarely bodes well.”
“And that’s enough of your riddles,” I mutter, voice clipped. I don’t wait for their rebuttal; I’m already moving.
· · ·
The windows of Levi’s flower shop are dark, the glow of the moon reflecting faintly off the glass. But I don’t knock. I just…wait. There’s something about the quiet of this place. About the stillness that surrounds it when he’s not here. Even in silence, this shop feels like Levi.
I sit on the stoop, elbows on my knees, trying not to think about the way Lorraine’s words echo in my head. My brothers. My threads. My choices.
And then I hear him.
Boots on pavement. A burst of laughter trailing behind him from the street after Dominic shouts something obscene before driving away. Levi rounds the corner, his coat pulled tight, and cheeks pink from the cold…or the drinks.
“Holy fuck,” Levi breathes, slowing to a stop. “You scared the shit out of me!”
“Apologies,” I say, rising from the stoop. “Didn’t mean to lurk. Thought I’d stop by.”
“At”—he glances at his phone, squinting—“one thirty in the morning? What happened to that early start you mentioned?”
I shrug, stepping closer. “Turns out sleep is overrated. And so is pretending I didn’t want to see you.”
His brows lift, but that grin spreads, loose and warm. “Who, me?” he asks innocently.