Chapter 22 Senna
SENNA
The bond hums contentedly in my chest—this steady, reassuring presence that's been growing stronger every day since whatever Darian forced down my throat finally wore off. It's like having Lorenth's heartbeat layered over my own, this constant reminder that I'm not alone anymore.
I lean against the counter, watching Lorenth dice vegetables with the kind of precision that suggests he's done this a thousand times. His wings are partially unfurled, relaxed, the gray feathers catching the afternoon light streaming through the kitchen window.
Three weeks.
Three weeks of waking up in his arms. Three weeks of exploring this beautiful, chaotic city. Three weeks of feeling safe.
"You're staring." He doesn't look up from the cutting board, but there's amusement threading through his voice.
"Maybe I like what I'm seeing."
That earns me a glance, golden-ringed eyes warming with something that makes heat curl low in my belly. "Keep looking at me like that and we're not making it to dinner."
I grin, turning back to the pot of broth simmering on the stove. The kitchen smells like zynthra and brimbark, the vegetables we picked up from the market this morning. Lorenth insisted on teaching me how to make proper stew—apparently my first attempt last week was "edible but tragic."
His words, not mine.
"Stir that or it'll stick." He moves behind me, one hand settling on my hip while he reaches around to add the diced vegetables to the pot. The heat of his body against my back makes me lean into him automatically.
This. This casual intimacy. This easy comfort in each other's space.
I never knew it could be like this.
The bond pulses with warm satisfaction, echoing the contentment spreading through my chest. Lorenth presses a kiss to my temple before moving back to the cutting board, and I can't help smiling as I stir the vegetables into the broth.
"Lora mentioned wanting to take you to the theater district next week." He's slicing brimbark now, each cut precise. "Some new performance she thinks you'll enjoy."
"She doesn't have to keep finding excuses to spend time with me." Though I love that she does. Lora has become something like the sister I never had—warm and laughing and utterly shameless about interrogating me for embarrassing stories about Lorenth.
"She likes you." Simple. Direct. "Kova and Kaelan ask about you constantly."
The mention of Lora's children makes warmth bloom in my chest. Kova with her endless questions about everything, Kaelan with his quiet observations and unexpected wit. They're wonderful.
"I like them too."
A sharp knock interrupts whatever Lorenth might have said. He looks up, wings rustling with annoyance. "Probably Lora."
"She knocked this time." I can't quite suppress my grin. "Progress."
His answering look is pure exasperation. "Only because she walked in on us last week and got an eyeful she didn't ask for."
My face heats at the memory. We'd been on the couch. Very much occupied. And Lora had breezed through the front door without warning, taken one look at the scene, shrieked something about "warning a sister," and backed right out again.
She's knocked ever since.
"At least she learned." I stir the stew, trying not to laugh.
Lorenth mutters something unflattering about nosy siblings as he wipes his hands on a towel and heads toward the front door. I turn down the heat on the stew, letting it simmer while I move to start slicing the bread we bought this morning.
The door opens. Lorenth's voice carries back to the kitchen. "If you're here to interrogate Senna about—"
"Oh, are you going to threaten me too?" A familiar voice cuts him off, teasing and warm and utterly unexpected. "Tell me I can't come after her? Because I heard someone made that speech to an entire village."
My hands freeze on the bread knife.
That voice.
I know that voice.
"Mira?" The name comes out strangled as I abandon the bread and practically run for the front door.
She's standing on the doorstep, one hand on her hip, looking up at Lorenth with that bold challenge that's pure Mira. Chestnut-brown skin glowing in the late afternoon sun, honey-brown eyes bright with mischief, those short springy curls framing her face.
My best friend.
My only friend for so long.
"Senna!" She barely gets my name out before I crash into her, arms wrapping tight around her shoulders.
She hugs me back just as fiercely, laughing into my hair. "Gods, I've missed you."
"What are you doing here?" I pull back enough to see her face, hands still gripping her shoulders like I'm afraid she'll disappear. "How did you—when did you—"
"Breathe." She's grinning, eyes suspiciously bright. "I'm here. I'm real. And I'm not going anywhere."
Behind us, Lorenth clears his throat. "I'll... leave you two to catch up."
I glance back at him, catching the small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The bond pulses with warm amusement and something softer—understanding, maybe. Knowing how much this means to me.
He disappears back into the house, giving us space.
I turn back to Mira, pulling her inside and closing the door. "I can't believe you're here. I wanted to come back, to explain, but—"
"But you disappeared after your xaphan tore Darian apart." Mira shakes her head, but she's still smiling. "Which I missed, by the way. I was making deliveries and came back to find out I missed the show of a lifetime."
"Mira—"
"Don't." She holds up a hand, expression sobering slightly. "Don't apologize. That bastard deserved everything he got and worse. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to see it."
The casual viciousness in her tone makes something tight in my chest loosen. She gets it. Understands why Lorenth did what he did. Why I don't regret it.
"I missed you." The words come out thick. "So much."
"I know." She pulls me into another hug, this one gentler. "I know, Senna. But I'm here now."
We stand there for a moment, just holding each other. Three weeks isn't that long, but it feels like a lifetime since I last saw her. Since I last had this—someone who knew me before everything changed.
"Come on." I pull back, wiping at my eyes. "Come sit. Tell me everything."
I tug her toward the sitting room, gesturing for her to take one of the comfortable chairs near the fireplace. She settles in, looking around the space with open curiosity.
"Nice place." Her gaze catches on the large windows overlooking the city, the carefully chosen furniture, the books scattered on every available surface. "Very... Lorenth."
"He reads." I perch on the edge of the couch. "Constantly. I keep finding books in the strangest places."
"Does he know what shelves are for?"
"I've asked." The dry response makes her laugh, bright and familiar.
Gods, I've missed this. Missed her.
"So." Mira leans back, crossing her legs. "You going to tell me what you've been doing for three weeks, or do I have to guess?"
Heat creeps up my neck. "We've been... settling in. He's shown me the city. Introduced me to his sister. Taken me to his bakeries—"
"Bakeries?" Her eyebrows shoot up. "Plural?"
"He owns several." I shrug, still getting used to the reality of Lorenth's wealth. "Markets too. He's been teaching me about the business side of things."
"And at night?" The teasing edge to her voice makes me flush darker.
"Mira—"
"What? I'm just asking." But she's grinning now, shameless. "Though from the look on your face, I'm guessing the answer involves significantly less business discussion."
I grab a cushion and throw it at her. She catches it, laughing.
"He treats you well?" The question comes quieter, more serious beneath the teasing.
"Better than well." The truth of it settles warm in my chest. "He's... everything, Mira. Everything I didn't know I could have."
Her expression softens. "Good. You deserve that."
The bond hums with warm contentment, and I know Lorenth can feel this conversation even from the kitchen. Feel my happiness at seeing Mira. My gratitude that she's here.
"But that doesn't explain what you're doing here." I lean forward. "Not that I'm complaining. I'm thrilled. But—"
"I'm moving to New Solas." She says it simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
My heart stutters. "What?"
"You think I'm staying in that village?" She makes a dismissive gesture. "After everything that happened? After watching you escape to something better? I'm done with that place, Senna. Done with the small minds and smaller opportunities."
"But your apartment—your job—"
"My apartment was a box I could barely afford, and my job could be done here." She shakes her head. "I'm ready for something new. Something more."
Joy bubbles up in my chest, bright and effervescent. "You're serious."
"Completely." She grins. "Though I'll need a place to stay while I find work. Know anyone with a spare room?"
"Stay here." The words tumble out before I can think them through. "Stay with us. We have space—multiple bedrooms—and you shouldn't have to find somewhere right away when—"
I cut myself off, suddenly aware I'm making decisions about Lorenth's home without asking him.
But Mira's already shaking her head, laughing. "Senna, I can't just—"
"Yes you can." Lorenth's voice comes from the kitchen doorway. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, that small smile still playing at his lips. "Stay as long as you need."
I look up at him, warmth flooding my chest. He doesn't even hesitate. Doesn't question or hedge. Just offers.
Because he knows what this means to me.
The bond pulses with steady certainty, his feelings mixing with mine until I can't tell where he ends and I begin. Love. That's what this is. This overwhelming, all-consuming feeling that makes my chest tight and my eyes sting.
I love him.
Have loved him, probably, since that first night at the festival when he looked at me like I was something precious instead of something to be endured.
"You sure?" Mira glances between us. "I don't want to impose—"
"You're not imposing." I stand, crossing to where Lorenth waits. His arm wraps around my waist automatically, pulling me against his side. "You're my best friend. You're family."
The word hangs in the air for a moment.
Family.
Something I haven't had in so long. Not really. Not the kind that chooses you instead of tolerating you.
But now...
Now I have Lorenth. Lora. Kova and Kaelan. And Mira.
A family built from choice and love instead of obligation.
"Whatever you want." Lorenth's voice rumbles against my side, lips brushing the top of my head. "If you want Mira here, she's here. If you want to help her find her own place, we'll do that. Whatever makes you happy."
I tilt my head back to look at him, catching the warmth in those golden-ringed eyes. The absolute certainty that he means every word.
This man.
This incredible, fierce, impossibly patient man who tore apart my cage and built me a home instead.
"Thank you." The words are inadequate for what I'm feeling, but they're all I have.
His answering smile is soft. Private. Meant just for me despite Mira watching from across the room.
"Always."
The bond swells with emotion—his and mine tangled together until there's no separation. Just this overwhelming sense of rightness. Of everything finally, finally falling into place.
I turn back to Mira, who's watching us with suspiciously bright eyes and a wobbly smile.
"So." I clear my throat. "That's settled. You're staying."
"Apparently." But she's grinning now, standing to cross the room. "Thank you. Both of you."
She pulls me into another hug, and over her shoulder I see Lorenth watching us with that small, satisfied smile.
This is it.
This is what happiness feels like.
Not the desperate, stolen moments I survived on before. Not the brief respites between pain.
Just... peace. Safety. Love.
A home built from choice instead of chains.
And I'm never letting it go.