“I know what it’s like,” he said quietly, “to build something from nothing. To need support you don’t get.” His eyes dropped to my hands, and his voice softened even more. “I’m offering mine.”
Something bloomed in my chest—warm, aching andutterlyterrifying.
I nodded, before my voice could betray me. “Okay. I’d… like that.”
His fingers brushed mine when he closed the box again—an unintentional touch, but my magick flared between us, that faint, unmistakable spark that told me that even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself fully, my magick knewexactlywho he was to me. He pulled back too quickly, his jaw tightening and his eyes flicking away.
But he didn’t take back the offer or step away from me. And when he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper.
“We’ll make this work, Hanna.”
We.Notyou. NotI. We.
Savla Everlock, who avoided connection like it was poison, had just tied himself to my dream with one simple word. And the Goddess Mother help me—I was already his.
Chapter 19
Hanna
Savla showed up at my door the next morning exactly on time—which meant he’d been standing outside for at least ten minutes pretending he wasn’t waiting. I opened the door and found him holding a stack of slim tablets under one arm, and Ribbon pressed against his back like he was trying to merge with him.
“He insisted on coming,” he said flatly.
Ribbon croaked like it was an outrageous lie.
I laughed and stepped aside to let them in. Ribbon immediately barreled in like a boulder with enthusiasm, stopping only to sniff the new curtain Zara had sewn for me before settling dramatically in the middle of the floor.
“So,” Savla said, setting the tablets on my table. “We’re building your website today.”
We.There it was again—the word that made warmth flood my chest.
“Okay,” I said, trying not to sound giddy. “Teach me.”
He sat beside me—too close, but not close enough—and turned the first tablet on. On the screen were menu options for witch-run e-commerce networks, each more complicated-looking than the last.
He glanced sideways at me, half-amused. “Try not to panic,” he said, softly. “I did a lot of research last night and these are the most common options.”
“I’m not panicking,” I lied.
“You’re panicking,” he retorted, deadpan.
I bumped his shoulder. “Says the man who keeps flinching every time Ribbon breathes.”
Ribbon exhaled loudly through his nose. On purpose.Savla sighed like he’d been personally betrayed by the universe.
“It’s notjusta breath. He’sjudgingme,” he insisted.
“He judges everyone,” I corrected.
He muttered something in Orcish that sounded suspiciously like a complaint, but I could barely make out the words, before focusing on the tablets again.We worked through the layout options, his voice low and steady beside me. Every time I reached across him to select an icon or swipe through designs, his breath caught in this tiny, imperceptible way—a hesitation like he wasn’t used to being touched, even accidentally.
But he didn’t pull away. And the Goddess Mother help me, I felt it. Every inch between us hummed and every time our fingers brushed, something inside me fluttered like wings trapped behind my ribs.
“So,” I said, casually, “what should we call the shop?”
He didn’t look up from the tablet when he answered. “Our potion shop should have your grandmother’s name in it.”
My heart slammed into a wall again.Our.
