30. Draven
DRAVEN
The final night of the Harvest Festival paints the square in warm lantern light, and I find myself stationed behind Isolde's honey stand like some sort of merchant's assistant.
The irony isn't lost on me—twelve years of protecting this town from the shadows, and now I'm learning to count change and wrap jars in brown paper.
"You're getting better at this." Isolde nudges my shoulder as I hand a satisfied customer their purchase. "Only dropped two coins this time."
"My hands weren't designed for delicate work." I flex my scarred fingers, watching her arrange the remaining jars with practiced efficiency. Despite losing nearly a third of her stock to Vaelis's sabotage, the stand has been busy all evening.
"Could've fooled me." She glances at the neat rows I've managed to create. "For someone who claims to be all thumbs, you've got a decent eye for display."
The compliment settles somewhere unexpected in my chest. I've spent years being valued for my ability to track, hunt, kill—never for something as simple as arranging honey jars in an appealing pattern.
Maddie appears beside our stand like a flour-dusted whirlwind, carrying a basket that smells of savory herbs and rich meat. Her grin could power the festival lanterns.
"Look at you two!" She sets the basket down with theatrical flair. "Harvest Hollow's most successful partnership. The honey-and-hunter enterprise."
"We're just selling honey, Maddie." Isolde's voice carries fond exasperation, but I catch the way her eyes crinkle at the corners.
"Just selling honey?" Maddie pulls back the cloth covering her basket, revealing golden-brown pastries that make my stomach clench with hunger. "Izzy, you were a genius to suggest using Draven's game for savory pastries. People have been devouring them faster than I can bake."
I blink, processing her words. "Isolde suggested what?"
"Oh, don't be modest." Maddie waves her hand dismissively. "When she mentioned how much venison you'd brought in from your last hunt, I immediately thought about incorporating it into festival fare. These meat pies have been my biggest seller."
Isolde shrugs, but I catch the slight flush in her cheeks. "It was just an idea. Maddie's baking is what brought it to life."
"Nonsense. It was brilliant collaboration." Maddie reaches into her apron and pulls out a leather pouch that clinks with the weight of coins. "Which brings me to this."
She extends the pouch toward me, and I stare at it like it might bite.
"What's that for?"
"Your share of the profits, obviously." Maddie's expression suggests I'm being deliberately obtuse. "The meat was yours. The idea came from your partnership with Izzy. You deserve compensation."
The pouch feels heavier than it should when I finally take it. I've been paid for my services before—coin for clearing threats, protecting trade routes, eliminating problems. But this feels different. This feels like inclusion rather than transaction.
"I didn't expect—" I start, then stop, unsure how to finish the sentence.
"What? That your contributions would be valued beyond just the dangerous bits?" Maddie's tone gentles, understanding flickering in her bright eyes. "Draven, you've been part of this community for twelve years. It's about time we started treating you like it."
The weight of her words settles alongside the coins in my palm. For the first time since settling in Harvest Hollow, I feel like a part of the community.
Maddie's attention shifts entirely to Isolde, her expression brightening even further.
"I'm absolutely thrilled you've decided to stay in Harvest Hollow permanently!
We'll make sure you have all the space you need to expand your apiary.
I've already spoken to Thornak about putting in more wildflower patches near the orchard—the bees will love it. "
Isolde shifts beside me, and I feel her take a breath before speaking. "Actually, I'm still planning on moving the apiary. Just not where you might expect."
Maddie's eyebrows lift with curiosity. "Oh?"
"Out to Draven's cottage in the woods." Isolde's voice carries quiet confidence, and I feel something settle in my chest at how naturally she says it.
"The flora out there is completely unbothered by village activity.
The bees will be able to flit about without any worry of someone at the orchard getting stung. "
The words hang in the festival air, and I watch Maddie process this information. Her grin transforms into something positively wicked.
"And I assume," Maddie adds with the knowing tone of someone who's been orchestrating romances since she could walk, "you'll be moving your own things in that direction as well?"
Isolde's laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep and genuine. The sound makes my tusks ache in the best possible way. She leans back against me with a trust I'm still learning to accept, her weight solid and warm against my chest.
"Perhaps a few things might find their way out there," she admits, tilting her head back to meet my eyes. "Someone needs to make sure this hunter remembers to eat proper meals."
Maddie clasps her hands together, and I recognize the expression that crosses her face—pure, unadulterated joy mixed with the satisfaction of a plan perfectly executed.
"I'm so happy for both of you. Truly." Her voice carries the warmth of someone who's watched two stubborn people finally find their way to each other. "You know, Draven, maybe you could even have your own stand at next year's festival."
I feel my eyebrows climb toward my hairline. "My own stand?"
"Think about it." Maddie's enthusiasm builds momentum like a runaway cart. "Fresh game, properly prepared. Maybe some of those smoked fish you catch from the northern streams. The town's always relied on traders for quality meat, but you know these forests better than anyone."
Isolde shifts against me, and I catch the smile in her voice. "He does make excellent jerky."
"You've tried my jerky?" I look down at her, genuinely surprised.
"Maddie may have shared a piece or two during our planning sessions." Isolde's grin turns mischievous. "Along with detailed commentary about how you never eat enough and someone should make sure you're properly fed."
"I feed myself perfectly well." The protest sounds weak even to my own ears.
"Dried meat and whatever you can forage doesn't constitute proper meals." Isolde turns in my arms until she's facing me fully, her hands settling on my chest. "Someone needs to introduce you to the concept of vegetables that aren't just whatever grows wild near your cottage."
Maddie makes a sound suspiciously like a squeal. "Oh, this is perfect. A hunter-beekeeper partnership. You'll revolutionize Harvest Hollow's food scene."
"One festival stand at a time," Isolde murmurs, but her attention has shifted entirely to me. The lantern light catches the gold flecks in her hazel eyes, and suddenly the noise of the festival fades to background murmur.
"Are you certain about this?" I ask quietly, my hands finding the curve of her waist. "Moving to the cottage, staying in Harvest Hollow, putting up with a hunter who doesn't know the difference between proper meals and survival rations?"
"I'm certain about you." Her answer comes without hesitation, steady and sure. "Everything else we can figure out as we go."
The simplicity of her words cuts through every doubt, every fear that's kept me circling the edges of belonging instead of claiming it outright. I lean down, closing the distance between us until her breath mingles with mine.
"Then I suppose," I murmur against her lips, "I'd better learn to like vegetables."
Her laugh vibrates against my mouth as I kiss her, deep and certain under the warm glow of festival lanterns. Around us, Harvest Hollow celebrates the end of another successful harvest, but at last, I'm not watching from the shadows.
I'm exactly where I belong.