Pan nods, taking this in with all the seriousness of an eight-year-old interpreting the world. “You should wear shoes,” he says wisely. “There’s a spiky one by the fence that stabbed me yesterday.”
“Good to know,” I say, trying not to snort. “I’ll be more careful next time.”
Flora pours another mug of tea and slides it down the counter toward me with the casual ease of someone who’s been waiting all morning to meddle. “You want fresh clothes, sweetheart? I know you’re much smaller than me, but we can make something work.”
Garrik doesn’t look at me…like he’s worried I’ll say no, or maybe yes? I’m not usre.
“I, uh…” I glance down at my wrinkled pants and honey-stained sweater. My thighs are still a little sticky and my neck’s doing a bad job of hiding the very obvious love bite; I definitely need new clothes and probably a hot shower. “That might be nice.”
“No pressure, of course,” Flora adds, flipping another honeycake with exaggerated cheer. “Just figured if you’re staying another day, you’d want something clean.”
My heart skips.
She says it so casually—if you’re staying another day—like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like I already belong here. Like no one would question it.
I glance at Garrik. He’s pretending to be extremely focused on his toast, but his antennae have turned that same bright pink from the garden.
Flora leans her hip against the counter, smiling sweetly. “Actually, Garrik, since you’re already up—why don’t you take your girlfriend down to Fablegrove today? Show her the botanic garden and the bookshops?”
Garrik stiffens when Pan’s eyes go wide at the term ‘girlfriend.’
“Flora,” he warns.
“What?” she shrugs. “It’s a nice day. Romantic. And educational.”
“I’d love to see it,” I cut in quickly, shooting him a grin. “If you’re offering.”
Pan’s whole face lights up. “Are you stayingagain?!”
“I…” I hesitate, watching Garrik carefully. He was so eager in bed last night…but he’s shy. I don’t want to pressure him?—
“Because if you are, I can show you the root fort I built! And the tree swing! And the moth hatchery! And Mom said I’mallowed to sleep in the big bed now so you can take my room if you want, or we can just share—I don’t kick, promise!”
“Pan,” Ivarr says gently, “slow down.”
“But she’s moving in, right?” Pan asks, blinking innocently between us. “Like, if she’s the girlfriend? That’s like—human for wife, right?”
Garrik is now the color of a ripe plum. His antennae twitch like, if he could, he’d use them to fly right through the ceiling.
Flora hums. “Well,technically?—”
“We’re not labeling anything yet,” I interrupt quickly, trying to fight a grin. “We’re just…spending time together.”
“Veryquiettime,” Davrin says, under his breath.
Garrik shoots him a look.
Pan beams. “You can still come to Fablegrove, though, right? I’ll show you the toy store, it’s so cool!”
“I’d love that,” I say, shooting Garrik a meaningful look. “Assuming your uncle doesn’t mind giving me the tour.”
His gaze softens as it meets mine.
“I’d be honored,” he says quietly.
And just like that, the warmth is back. The fluttering ache in my chest, the tug in my belly, the thrill that this—this whole messy, noisy, ridiculous family—might actually be something I get to keep.
10
