“You fear what it means,” she murmured. “The bond. The cost.”
Savla swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Her hand glowed softly as she lifted it toward him. “You are not your father’s story.”
Savla’s chest shook with a gasp of shock and pain.
“And Hanna is not your mother’s fate.”
The quickly released breath was one that spoke of deep relief. As if he’d been carrying that worry with him the entire time. Tears shimmered in his eyes—real, raw and unguarded.
“I don’t want to hurt her,” he whispered.
“My boy,” my grandmother said gently, “you are the safest place she has ever known.”
His eyes squeezed shut and something in me snapped—soft and aching. I reached for his hand and he threaded his fingers through mine instantly, gripping like he needed the contact to stay upright. My grandmother looked at our joined hands and smiled, warm and bright.
“You have my blessing,” she said.
The tears blossomed in my eyes before I was ready for them, blurring her to me. I blinked them away quickly, trying to memorize every second in her presence.
Savla’s entire body went still. Her blessing wasn’t just a formality. It carried real magick. Ancient Greyleaf magick—rare, powerful and binding in the best way.
We were from an ancient line of green witches. The witches of the earth. The ones that worshipped nature, sex and what the earth gave to us. Includingmates.
The candles flared, the runes glowed brighter and without hesitation, the bond surged in my chest—warmth spreading like honey through my veins.My grandmother reached into the air and pulled something from the shimmer. A wooden box appeared—old, worn and carved with the Greyleaf crest.
I stared at it, knowing what it was, and shaking from what it meant. She held it out to me.
“These were mine,” she said. “Tools shaped by my hands, used with love and guided by heart, not ambition.”
She pressed the box into my hands. It hummed with familiar magick. As soon as I touched it, a pulse traveled through my skin—soft, welcoming and ancient.
“You’ll build somethingbeautiful,” she whispered.
I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face.
“Grandma—thank you,” I gasped, barely able to get the words out around the sobs that were trapped in my chest.
She reached out one more time, touching both our cheeks—not physical, but warm enough to feel like sunlight. Like the blessing it was meant to be.
“My Hanna,” she whispered to me. “My Savla,” she whispered to him. Savla’s breath hitched. “Be good to each other.”
Then her light dimmed—not in sadness, but like a candlefinally at peace.
“Goodbye, my heart,” she whispered, her eyes on me for one last second.
Then the wind stilled and the glow that surrounded us faded. The runes dimmed to soft gold and the same way she’d come, she was gone.
I stood there shaking, holding the wooden box like it was my own heart. Savla stepped in front of me, lowering his forehead to mine, both of us breathing unevenly.
“You… got her blessing,” I whispered.
His voice was thick. “Wedid.” His thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t deserve that,” he murmured.
“You do,” I said fiercely. “You do. And she knew it.”
He closed his eyes, leaning into me with a soft exhale. Ribbon gently nudged our legs, croaking quietly.
