Are you done being dramatic? We’re going home.
Hanna laughed, and the tension broke—but not in a bad way. More like a knot loosening, just enough to breathe. We kept walking, this time much closer than before, but still not touching.
And I’m relieved by that. Not disappointed. Not disappointed that I can’t caress her soft skinat all.
Wewereclose enough that each step felt like a choice rather than an accident. Ribbon hopped ahead, smug as a creaturecould possibly be and in that moment, I began to suspect he knew exactly what he was doing.
Chapter 17
Hanna
The awareness started as a faint tug in my chest, like someone had hooked a thread to my ribcage and given the gentlest pull. By the time I reached the gathering room for the clan meeting, it had become a constant hum—quiet, maddening and impossible to ignore. And all of it led straight to him.
Savla Everlock.
Big, brooding, carved-from-stormclouds Savla. He stood near the back wall, arms crossed and his expression unreadable as always. He looked like someone had sculpted him out of ‘do not touch’ warnings. And I was apparently the idiot whose soul had decided to reach for him anyway.
True mate.
The words pulsed through me like a heartbeat I didn’t wantto claim.Couldn’tclaim. Not when he still kept himself locked up tighter than a spellbox with seventeen wards. Not when every time our eyes met, he looked away like it cost him something.
Soyes. Terrifying.
My grand plan?Humor. Humor fixed everything, right? Or at least it would distract most people long enough for me to hide behind a convenient potted plant.
Dear Goddess Mother, now I’m hiding behind potted plants like him.
The gathering room buzzed with chatter. All the orcs, humans and witches around Dristan and Penelope at the front. Pen cradled their newborn youngling—a pudgy little thing with green-gray skin and tiny tusk nubs. She wasadorable.
They named her Lira. When Penelope had announced it at the naming ceremony, the entire clan collectively melted. Even Savla’s eyes softened for half a second. I’d caught it, catalogued it and then promptly pretended I didn’t.
Dristan raised a hand, and the room quieted. “We’ve officially purchased the land at Kragor Lake,” he announced.
Cheers shook the walls. Apparently, orcs wereveryenthusiastic homeowners.
Once everything had quieted down a little, Dristan continued. “Construction on the new homes begins once everything is planned. We need designs to be drafted for each home and then we’ll get everything to our estimator.”
Penelope added with a proud grin, “We’ll need volunteers to start clearing ground, laying foundations, and setting up temporary shelters.”
I leaned toward Enka and whispered, “Should I volunteer? I can make potions for splinters. Or morale. Possibly both.”
Enka snorted loudly enough to turn three heads. Savla turned, too—just briefly—like he couldn’t help checking where I was.My traitorous chest warmed and I immediately dropped mygaze to the floorboards like they were suddenly fascinating.
Dristan continued, “We’ll move in stages. It’s a lot of work. Months of it. And the first group will need someone who knows the land.”
There was a quiet shift in the room. A presence straightening, heavy weight tilting.I felt it before I saw it—a ripple of attention that pulled toward the shadowed side of the hall.
Darak.
Silent, steady, mountain-sized Darak, who rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary, stepped forward.
“I’ll lead it,” he rumbled. “I know the terrain and I want to go back... home.”
His voice had a roughness I’d never heard before—something like longing buried under granite. Even Dristan looked surprised for a second. And then he looked pleased.
“Then it’s yours,” the chief said. “We trust you.”
The room filled with approving murmurs, pats for Darak on the back, which he accepted with silent nods and not-so-subtle scowls when the pats got too enthusiastic.
