“Oh,” I whispered, voice breaking.
I traced my fingertips lightly along the carved version of him, then the version of me. The detail was breathtaking, down to the faint smile he’d put on my lips—one I didn’t know he’d ever noticed.
“Oh, Savla… this is beautiful.”
He exhaled, shakily. “I carved it a while ago. Before the glitter spill and before the pigments. Before—” He stopped, breath catching. “Before I let myself look at what I wanted.”
My heart thudded painfully.
“Why didn’t you show me sooner?” I asked.
“Because I didn’t think I deserved to imagine it,” he said, softly.
I looked up sharply, something fierce rising inside me. “Savla.”
His eyes dropped. “I didn’t think I had the right to picture us together. To want this and to wantyou.” He swallowed hard. “I thought the bond would ruin us before we even began.”
I set the carving aside on the couch cushions, and cupped his face with both hands, turning him toward me.
“You deserve love,” I whispered fiercely. “You deserve dreams and you deserve a future that feels like yours.”
His eyes flicked up to mine—vulnerable and open in a way he never allowed himself to be.
“But what if I carved something that can’t happen?” he asked quietly. “What if I carved a lie?”
“It’s not a lie,” I said, sliding closer until our knees touched and until the air between us hummed with unspoken promises. “It’s a possibility.”
He blinked slowly, like he was absorbing the shape of hope for the first time.
“And I want it,” I breathed. “I want this. I wantyou.”
He sucked in a sharp breath and held it, his huge, muscular body unmoving. I picked up the carving again, and rested it gently in his hands.
“This isn’t a fantasy,” I said. “It’s a future we can choose for ourselves.”
He stared at the carving for a long moment. Then he whispered, “Hanna.”
It was my name, and I’d answered to it all of my life. But no one had ever said it that way—reverent and raw—with such utter longing and love.
I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward and kissed him.
He inhaled sharply, hands rising to cradle my face with aching tenderness. The kiss deepened—slow and warm, the kind that made the world fade until nothing existed except him and the woodsmoke scent of his skin. When we finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine.
“You really like it?” he murmured.
“I love it,” I whispered. “And one day… when it’s ready… I want it in our home.”
He froze, and I felt his throat move with a hard swallow where I was cupping the side of his thick neck. Then his arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest and holding me like he didn’t know how he’d survived without this closeness. His voice, when it came, was thick with emotion.
“Then I’ll carve the whole damn world if you ask,” he murmured against my hair.I smiled against his lips.
“I just want you,” I whispered.
And he kissed me again—soft, slow and sure—like he finally believed he could have me, too.Savla’s mouth was hot against mine, gentle but certain, his hands drifting to the sides ofmy waist like he wasn’t quite sure where to hold me without worshiping me entirely. It was a touch that was asking for more. Permission totake.
I nodded, desperate for more but he took his time, as always. The way I always knew my male would. There was no rushing him.
The kiss deepened—slow, molten and sweet in a way that made my toes curl and my heart trip over itself. I slid my hands into his hair, tugging him closer because I could, because I wanted to, because—
