Chapter 4 Garrik
GARRIK
Idon’t remember everything.
That’s the worst part. The edges are blurred, the details fragmented. I know I was drunk. I know I said things I shouldn’t have. I know I kissed her—she kissed me—and I kissed her back like a man starved. I know I broke something, but I don’t know if it was a thing or a part of her.
And I haven’t heard from her since.
That silence is killing me.
Iris has always been the one to reach out first, always the one with an easy smile, an invitation, a hey, big guy, you busy?
I’ve never gone this long without hearing from her—not even after I left Earth, not even when I moved back to the Arborium and told myself I needed distance.
She messaged me. She checked in. She sent me updates about the Grand Library, complained about her colleagues, sent pictures of ridiculous book covers that made her laugh.
Now? Nothing.
And I don’t know if that’s because she’s giving me space or because I finally fucked this up beyond repair.
I dig my claws into the soil, exhaling through my nose as I press down around the roots of a honeyfruit vine.
The garden behind the meadery is quiet this time of day, the air thick with the scent of earth and nectar, warm sunlight filtering through the high canopy of golden-leaved trees.
The vines curl along the trellises, the blossoms fat with pollen, and the Jotun bees hum lazily from flower to flower, wings fluttering.
It should be peaceful. It should be grounding.
But my hands are shaking.
I curl my fingers into fists, ignoring the way my stomach twists, the way my chest feels too tight. I tell myself it’s nothing. That I got what I wanted—space, clarity, time to shove my feelings back into the box where they belong.
“Think the soil is finally going to behave or do you think you need to give it a good spank?” a voice says from behind me.
I growl under my breath, glancing over my shoulder.
“Davrin,” I grunt.
My younger brother is standing behind me, arms crossed, his beekeeper’s cowl around his shoulders.
Since taking a year off from school so he could galavant around the galaxy, he’s come back and is working at the meadery…
seemingly only to annoy me. He’s got a stupid grin on his face that tells me he knows something I don’t—and I don’t like it one bit.
“What do you want?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He leans casually against the wooden fence bordering the garden. “Oh, nothing much,” he drawls. “Just thought you might want to know you’ve got a visitor.”
I frown, brushing the dirt from my hands. “I don’t get visitors.”
He shrugs. “Okay—then maybe she’s here to see me. Pretty human, golden hair, brown eyes…”
My head snaps toward him.
“Thought that would get your attention,” he snickers.
“She’s…” I pause, already well aware that my reaction has given away too much to my meddling younger brother. “She’s here?”
“Yep—inside,” he continues. “Chatting with Ivarr, Flora, and Pan. She even brought gifts.”
“Just…she just showed up?” I ask, like I still can’t comprehend the fact that Iris is here in the Arborium at my family home.
“Mmhm.”
I exhale sharply, pushing both hands through my hair and getting it absolutely full of soil. I haven’t seen Iris since that night in Mythara—since I spilled my guts to her, since she told me she wanted me to take her home, since she kissed me…
…since I broke her door and ran away like a coward.
“Did she say why she’s here?” I ask.
“To see you,” Davrin snorts. “And of course Ivarr and Flora are full of questions, given that you spent ten years with this human female and never bothered to introduce us after you came home.”
I wince. “Does she seem angry?”
Davrin just grins. “Nope. Seems real cozy, actually. Like she’s already part of the family. Pan’s basically decided she’s his new favorite aunt, Ivarr’s saying you’re going to bake for her, and Flora is very interested in why they’ve never met.”
I groan. My sister-in-law is relentless when it comes to my love life—and this is no exception. Flora is the only one I told about the incident when I stumbled home drunk after leaving her apartment in Mythara, and now she’s talking to Iris.
“Guess I’d better go and see my guest then,” I say through gritted teeth.
Davrin laughs, and I wonder if Flora actually kept my secret or if they’re all playing matchmaker now. “Guess you should.”
I stride toward the house, Davrin at my heels, until I reach the rich wooden door.
The house is glowing with afternoon light, sunbeams slanting through the stained glass windows, dust motes swirling.
The scent of honey, warm wood, and summer fruit fills the air…
along with the most delicious scent in the galaxy.
Iris.
I find her a moment later, dwarfed by the massive couch she’s sitting on.
Her hair is up in the usual messy ponytail, curls flying all over, her glasses perched on her nose, one shoulder peeking out of a cozy yellow sweater.
She’s holding a steaming mug of honeyfruit tea, the cup closer to the size of a cereal bowl in comparison to her tiny hands.
Beside her is my nephew, Pan. He’s only ten, but he’s already roughly her size—and he grins up at me, looking up from what seems to be a book of fairy tales.
“Uncle Garrik!” Pan shouts. “Your friend brought me a book!”
I only realize I’m staring when Davrin walks up behind me and nudges me, making me stumble a step forward. Iris sees me a moment later, watching her like some creep, and her eyes light up as her face flushes.
Everyone sees it.
I wince.
“Garrik,” she says.
Full stop.
“Iris,” I say back.
Silence.
“Garrik, we were just catching up with your friend,” Flora offers. “She was regaling us with tales of your time on Earth together, rescuing books.”
I clear my throat, nodding slowly, eyes flicking back to Iris—who is still watching me, still sitting there like she belongs, like she’s already made herself at home in a way that makes my stomach twist into knots.
She’s got that look on her face, that stubborn set of her jaw that tells me she’s here for a reason.
And I am absolutely, positively not prepared for whatever that reason is.
Pan kicks his legs over the side of the couch, still grinning. “Uncle Garrik, did you really fend off a whole pack of enemy lycan just so Iris could salvage a comic book collection?!”
I exhale slowly, rubbing at the back of my neck. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me—Flora’s keen, inquisitive gaze, Davrin’s barely restrained smirk, and Pan’s wide-eyed excitement—but it’s nothing compared to the weight of Iris’s stare.
She’s watching me like she’s trying to figure something out, like she’s waiting for me to make the first move. And I…have no idea what to do with that.
So I do the only thing I can think of.
I lie.
“Of course not,” I say gruffly, crossing my arms. “It wasn’t a whole pack.”
Pan groans dramatically. “Come on, Uncle Garrik! That’s the boring answer.”
Iris, the traitor, grins into her tea. “It was at least a small pack,” she supplies. “And he did fight them. And he did win. But to be fair, the comic books were rare editions.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You said they were valuable historical artifacts.”
She shrugs. “They were! To me.”
Davrin cackles from behind me. Flora shakes her head fondly. Pan looks at me like I’m the coolest person in the world, which makes it infinitely worse.
Iris, meanwhile, just keeps sipping her tea.
I exhale through my nose, running a hand down my face. “Pan, don’t believe everything Iris says.”
Iris gasps, mock-offended. “Excuse you, everything I say is true. I’m a librarian. I deal exclusively in facts.”
“Iris said you promised her a tour of the meadery and you still haven’t done it,” Pan says, suddenly accusatory—like I’m the bad guy here, lycan-fighting badass aside. “Why not, Uncle Garrik?”
“I uh…” I stammer, all pretense of swagger gone. I don’t know how to answer—because I kissed her? Because I broke her door, I wanted her so badly? Because it just proved that if I even try to touch her, there’s a chance to break her and—
“Oh, I don’t mind waiting,” she says, all saccharine patience. “Whenever you’re ready, beekeeper.”
I exhale sharply through my nose.
Flora smothers a smile behind her teacup. Davrin makes an exaggerated ooooh noise under his breath, and Pan, sweet innocent Pan, just beams between us like this is all perfectly normal.
Iris sips her tea again, looking for all the world like she hasn’t just upended the last ten years of my life.
I grit my teeth.
Fine.
She wants a tour? She gets a damn tour.
I turn on my heel and jerk my head toward the door. “Come on then.”
She grins—big and bright and like she’s won something—and then she sets down her mug and hops up to follow.
As soon as we’re out the door, walking side by side through the orchard toward the meadery, I feel it again—the overwhelming awareness of her, the honey-sweet scent of her skin, the warmth radiating off her body like she was made to slot into my side.
I keep my hands in my pockets, my stride carefully measured.
If I reach for her, I’ll want to keep her, and if I keep her, I don’t think I’ll ever let her go.
She doesn’t say anything at first, just takes in the sight of the golden trees, the thick vines curling over wooden trellises, the Jotun bees humming lazily through the afternoon air.
“It’s beautiful here,” she murmurs.
I nod. “Good place to settle down.”
She hums softly. “And yet, somehow, I never pictured you here.”
I glance at her sidelong. “No?”
She shakes her head, tucking her hands behind her back as she strolls. “I mean, sure, I always thought you deserved somewhere peaceful. You worked your ass off for years, running all over Earth, saving books and getting into fights you probably didn’t need to pick.”
I snort. “Every fight was necessary.”
I don’t add the part we both know—because I had to protect you.
Iris goes silent, looking at the way the golden light filters through the trees, her gaze distant, thoughtful. For a moment, I let myself look at her, my gaze lingering.
She doesn’t belong here, not really. She belongs in libraries, among dusty books, exploring forgotten stories. She looked so at home in the Grand Library that I thought it would be cruel to take her out of it.
And yet…she fits here, doesn’t she?
In this garden. In my life. My heart.
She fits so easily into my world that it makes my chest ache.
I clear my throat, forcing my gaze away. “The apiary is just ahead.”
Her brows shoot up. “Wait a minute—I finally get to meet your bees?”
I laugh. “They’ll probably hardly even notice you…but yes, it’s finally time to meet my bees—Little Wing included.”