AVINE
Three weeks. That’s how long it had taken to finish the Siren’s Rest.
Avine stood on the wraparound porch, watching the sun sink toward the harbor and paint the weathered shingles in shades of gold.
She’d been so afraid of the decision she made when she first got to Haven Shores.
Not of the inn’s deep magic or the meddling Elders or the gossip network that knew her business before she did. She’d been afraid of herself.
The woman who’d signed that deed months ago would never have believed she’d end up here. Claimed. Mated. Happy.
Inside, chaos reigned. The grand reopening party had officially started an hour ago, and already Gilly’s signature cocktails were flowing, Dahlia’s spelled pastries were disappearing, and someone—probably Cassia—had enchanted the chandelier to cast tiny dancing lights across the restored lobby ceiling.
Haven Shores had shown up in force. Every witch, wolf, and miscellaneous paranormal in a twenty-mile radius seemed tohave crammed themselves into her inn, and the noise level was approaching small hurricane.
Avine touched the mark on her neck—hidden tonight by a carefully draped silk scarf, though she suspected everyone in attendance already knew exactly what was beneath it. Three weeks of seagull gossip had seen to that. The mark pulsed gently under her fingertips, alive with residual magic, a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone anymore.
That had been the hardest part to accept. Not the claiming itself—that had felt inevitable by the time it happened, as natural as breathing. But the vulnerability that came with it. The knowledge that someone could find her anywhere, anytime. That she’d given another person that kind of access to her life.
This Avine—the one who’d faced exploding magical constructs and meddling Elders and her own buried power—understood the difference. Theo didn’t want to track her to control her. He wanted to find her because he couldn’t stand not knowing she was safe. Because she mattered to him in a way she’d never mattered to anyone.
She felt him before she heard him. The mark pulsed with awareness, a compass needle pointing toward home, and she turned as Theo stepped onto the porch.
He wore a dark gray Henley that stretched across his shoulders and jeans that fit in ways she shouldn’t be noticing at a public event. His gaze found hers immediately, and a tension she’d been carrying eased.
Hers.
“Hiding?” He moved to stand beside her, close enough that his arm brushed hers.
“Thinking.” She leaned into his heat. “Remembering what I was like when I got here. How scared I was.”
His hand found the small of her back. “And now?”
“Now I’m terrified in completely different ways.” She smiled at his immediate frown. “Good ways. The kind of scared that means you have things worth losing.”
His expression softened. “You’re not going to lose anything.”
“I know.” And she did. That was the miracle of it—she actually believed him.
“Your power is the first thing I noticed about you. Standing on that porch like you were ready to fight whatever came through those wards. I’d never seen anyone so fierce and so wounded at the same time.”
She laughed—a real laugh, full and free. “We were both such disasters.”
“We were.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Now we’re disasters in tandem. It’s more efficient.”
“Romantic.”
“I try.” His arm tightened around her. “We should go back in. Before Junie sends a search party.”
“One more minute.” She turned in his arms, her hands finding his chest. “I need you to know something first.”
“Okay.”
His hands framed her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones.
“As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be here. Longer, probably. I’m stubborn like that.”
“Good.” She kissed him—soft, deliberate, a seal on everything she’d said. “Because I’m keeping you.”
