Page 63 of Sanctuary and Spices
The bond sparked between us. “Were we?”
“Tease.” His markings blazed as he claimed my mouth again.
This time, no one interrupted.
The café hadlong since quieted, the hum of the station lulling everything into its evening rhythms. I sat at the small desk in our quarters, the soft light from the ceremonial vine spilling over my grandmother’s cookbook. Its worn cover felt familiar under my fingertips, grounding me.
The latest page was half-filled with notes from the day—adjustments to the Jhrya-infused glaze, an idea for pairing Ronhar’s Kyreth leaves with the Pel’ax mushrooms. Recipes flowed more easily now, as if the bond between us had unlocked something I hadn’t realized was missing. These pages were no longer just my grandmother’s legacy—they were becoming mine.
Through the open window, I could hear the faint laughter of the station’s late-night crowd mingling with the soft chime of the garden crystals. Peaceful. Whole.
I picked up my tablet, hesitating for a moment before powering it on. My father’s last message—his unexpected words of pride—echoed in my mind as I stared at the blank screen.
Cooking is love made visible.
I smiled softly. He’d been right.
I didn’t feel the need to prove myself to him. But I wanted to share this part of my life with him. Not because I owed him anything, but because I’d found something worth sharing.
I opened a new message.
Subject:Thank You
Dad,
I wanted to let you know that I’m okay. More than okay, actually. I’ve found a place that feels like home, surrounded by people who believe in me and what I can do.
I’m married now. His name is Ronhar, and I think you’d like him—he’s steady, kind, and makes me feel like I belong.
I’ve been using Grandma’s cookbook a lot lately. Thebaozirecipe came out almost as good as hers, though I think she’d have some notes. Thank you for reminding me what cooking really means.
I hope we can talk soon.
Love,
Jani
I hit send beforeI could second-guess myself. The message disappeared into the ether, leaving me staring at the blank screen.
A warm hand touched my shoulder. “Everything okay?”
I tilted my head back to look at Ronhar, his golden eyes soft in the dim light. “Yeah,” I said, leaning into his touch. “It’s just… I sent my dad a message.”
He nodded, the gentle smile still somehow able to take my breath away. “I’m glad.”
The ceremonial vine swayed lightly in the corner, its petals catching the soft glow of the station’s artificial stars. I closed my eyes, feeling the bond between Ronhar and me humming with quiet contentment.
For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I was running from anything.
I was exactly where I needed to be.
