“Forever, then,” I whisper. “I’ll have you forever.”
His hand tightens on mine, and we drive through the darkness toward home, toward the future, toward whatever comes next.
Together.
Because that’s what family does. They stay. They choose each other. They show up.
And for the first time in twenty years, I finally understand what that means.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Laney
The day after we return from Sacramento is the postponed New Year’s party.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” Ryder asks as we’re getting ready. “Meeting my mom, the whole crew?”
“Ready,” I say, adjusting my sweater in the mirror. “And I’m glad your first day as lieutenant isn’t until next week—you deserve one night to celebrate before the paperwork avalanche starts.”
“You’re the one who convinced me to take the promotion,” he reminds me, brushing a kiss over my temple. “If we’re going to build that sanctuary, we’ll need the stability. Better pay, better schedule, fewer overnight calls.”
“You mean I won’t have to compete with burning buildings for your attention?”
“Onlyyouset me on fire now.” His grin is wicked and affectionate all at once.
I laugh, my nerves easing. “Then yeah, I’m ready. And after facing my dad yesterday?” I manage a smile. “I think I can handle anything.”
“Fair warning: they’re going to be a lot.” He pulls me close. “But they’re going to love you.”
“Because you love me?”
“Because you’re lovable, Solarin. They’re just going to see what I see.”
He pauses, his hand settling warm at my lower back as we walk to his truck. “Though they’re also going to know immediately we’re soulbound. Every orc will sense it the moment we walk in. The mated scent, the way we move together—it’s impossible to hide.”
My stomach does a little flip. “What will they do?”
“Celebrate.” His smile is tender. “Soulbonds are rare, Laney. A blessing. They’ll be happy for us.”
“Even though we’ve only known each other a few weeks?”
“Especially because of that. It means what we have is real—recognized by the Goddess herself.” He kisses my forehead. “But I promise I won’t let them overwhelm you.”
The drive to the Integration Zone settles my nerves somewhat. The landscape shifts gradually from mountain isolation to something more populated, and I watch it all with curious eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Ryder asks, glancing over at me.
“I’ve spent so long hiding from the world up in that cabin. And now I’m driving toward it.” I squeeze his hand. “Feels right, though. Scary, but right.”
The Integration Zone isn’t what I expected.
I’m not sure what I was picturing—maybe something institutional and cold, like a detention facility. But as Ryder drives us through the checkpoint (showing his ID and signing me in as a visitor with practiced efficiency), what I see looks more like a vibrant neighborhood than a prison.
“This is home,” Ryder says, reading my expression. “Not perfect, but home.”
The buildings are a mix of architectural styles, but they have one thing in common—none have been constructed in the last fifty years. There’s a community garden with winter vegetables, a playground where orc children play alongside minotaur and naga kids, and a storefront just outside the Zone perimeter with a sign reading “Jingle All the Way” that’s absolutely drowning in Christmas decorations.
“That’s my friend Joy’s shop,” I announce. “I’ve heard so much about her mate, Grum—I can’t wait to finally meet him tonight.”
