Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Avalon
I don't know how I'm still standing.
My knees feel like they're made of pudding, and my heart is thundering against my ribs so hard it hurts.
Jodrick cradles the book against his chest like it's some priceless treasure, and Viraat... Viraat is looking at me like I just handed him the whole damned world.
It’s too much.
I turn away under the weight of it all and pretend I’m busy fussing with Sparrow’s fur.
"I’m sorry," I whisper into the crook of Sparrow’s neck, even though I know they can hear me.
"For what, little one?" Jodrick’s voice is gentle but firm, like he already knows all the words piling up behind my teeth.
"For... asking too much," I say, squeezing my eyes shut. "For being selfish."
Heavy footsteps cross the nursery floor.
I don't have to look to know it's Viraat. His presence is a thundercloud, all pressure and heat and that strange tenderness he doesn't know how to hide anymore.
A calloused hand slides under my chin, tipping my face up.
"Listen, babygirl," he growls, voice rough as gravel, "if you ever apologize for giving us a chance to love you again, I'll put you over my knee so fast your head will spin."
My mouth falls open, a squeaky little protest dying before it can form.
"I mean it," Viraat rumbles. His thumb brushes across my jaw. It’s not a threat. It’s a promise, thick with the kind of fierce devotion that makes my chest hurt.
I reach for Jodrick with my free hand, needing him too. Needing both of them.
Without hesitation, he steps forward, pressing his big warm body against my side. Between the two of them, I feel like I might actually be able to breathe again.
"You don't ask too much, sweetheart," Jodrick murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my hair. "You don't ask enough. This isn't us giving up something, it's us gaining the most precious gift in the world."
"But your magic—"
"Means nothing without you," he cuts in gently.
I believe them.
I do.
But part of me still trembles with the weight of it.
I press my forehead against Viraat’s chest, letting the thud of his heartbeat ground me.
"Okay," I whisper. "Okay."
We stand like that for a long time, tangled together in the moonlight, with Sparrow meowing softly against my side like he approves.
But eventually, the practical part of me stirs.
The guests.
The spell.
The decision.
I pull back, wiping my cheeks before either of them can fuss too much. "We have work to do," I say, trying to smile.
Viraat snorts. "Bossy little thing."
Jodrick chuckles, sliding an arm around my shoulders. "We’ll handle the spell first."
"But the guests—" Panic rises sharp and fast, flashing through the bond. Just a few more days and they'll be here.
"We’ll be ready, precious girl," Jodrick promises. "We’ll make it work. And honestly, I'd rather us be human so we can help you throughout the entire ordeal.”
I cling to that promise like a lifeline.
Because ready or not, everything is about to change.
The spell circle is simple. The ingredients for it can all be found inside the house, so it doesn't take long to get our hands on everything we need.
We set it up in the library where the moonlight can pour in through the stained-glass windows.
Jodrick arranges the chalk lines with careful precision, murmuring instructions while Viraat grumbles but helps, tracing protective runes around the edges.
I hold the book in my lap, fingers trembling slightly as I flip to the page marked by the manor itself.
The language is old. Almost too old. But I can feel the ring of truth to it.
"Are you ready?" I ask them both, my voice barely above a whisper.
Viraat lifts his chin. “We were ready the moment you showed us the book.”
Jodrick’s smile is soft. “Speak the words, little one.”
I step into the center of the circle with the book in hand, barefoot, nightgown brushing the tops of my thighs. I swear the whole manor is holding its breath. I can feel its attention like a weight at my back, watching, waiting.
The words roll off my tongue like water, each syllable vibrating through my chest. The moment I finish, the candles flicker. A wind rushes through the room despite the closed windows, blowing my hair into my face.
Then... Silence.
The air stills. The candle flames return to normal. My heart pounds.
"Did it work?" I ask quietly.
Jodrick looks down at his hands, flexing them. Viraat turns his wrists, waiting. They both exchange a look. Tense, uncertain.
Viraat moves his hands, his long, clawed fingers still present.
"I... don't feel any different," he mutters.
Jodrick crouches, drawing a thumb along one of the runes. “The magic was cast, I’m sure of it. But perhaps... it takes time.”
I wrap my arms around myself, unsure whether I’m disappointed or relieved. I was braced for pain, for glow, for some dramatic shift. But all we get is silence.
Nothing changes.
Not yet.
"Maybe we did something wrong," I whisper, though it twists my gut to say it.
Viraat looks over his shoulder at me, eyes shadowed. “Or maybe the universe doesn’t believe we deserve this.”
I move to him fast, smacking his arm with a glare. “Hey. No. Don’t do that. Don’t make this about punishment.”
Jodrick lifts the book gently from my hands and closes it. “We gave it our all, Avalon. Let’s rest. We’ve still got the guests to prepare for. We’ll face whatever comes, together.”
My heart aches with the weight of that word—together.
We clean the circle up in silence, the three of us moving like clockwork, subdued but still orbiting around each other like the little family we’ve become.
That night, I fall asleep between them as usual, tangled in their arms, my heart still bruised with uncertainty.
I wake to birdsong.
Warmth.
Weight.
A slow blink brings Viraat’s broad chest into focus, rising and falling with steady breaths. His arms are still wrapped around me. Jodrick is curled behind me, one hand splayed across my belly, thumb tracing absent circles against my skin.
And... they’re still here.
Still breathing.
Still soft.
Still warm.
And temptingly human.
The sun is streaming in through the curtains.
“Oh,” I whisper, heart hammering.
Viraat stirs at the sound. His eyes open slowly, confused for a moment, then focused entirely on me.
“You didn’t turn to stone,” I breathe.
He lifts his head. Looks down at his hand. Flexes it. His mouth parts in disbelief.
“I didn’t,” he echoes.
Behind me, Jodrick groans awake. “Are you two usually this loud in the morning—wait.”
He jerks upright, staring at the sun-soaked room, then at his own hands.
A beat of stunned silence.
Then Viraat laughs. A broken, startled sound that shakes the whole bed.
Jodrick whoops and pulls me into his arms, covering my face in smacking kisses. I squeal and try to bat him away, tears streaming down my face even as I laugh and cry at the same time.
“We did it,” I sob. “It worked.”
Viraat leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. “Looks like the universe got it right after all.”
“Damn straight it did,” I sniff.
And just like that, we’re no longer bound to twilight.
A quiet moment stretches between us—sunlight warm across our bodies, laughter fading into breathless wonder.
Then something shifts. Barely there.
A low, familiar vibration hums up from the floorboards. Faint but steady. The walls seem to exhale around us, as if the manor itself is settling deeper into its bones.
Jodrick stills, his hand pausing on my hip. “Do you feel that?” he murmurs.
Viraat nods, lifting his head. “The house…”
“It's still here,” I whisper, placing my palm against the headboard. The hum is subtle but persistent, like a lullaby in a forgotten tongue. “Still awake.”
The manor hasn’t gone quiet. The spell didn’t sever the magic it holds. If anything, it hums with satisfaction—watching, witnessing, pleased.