Page 31 of Roaring Spell

“Berry says you special-ordered three Milly Taiden books last week.”

“Berry should mind her business.” But there’s a faint flush on Anouk’s cheeks. “I read for... research purposes.”

“Research.” Zeph’s grin is enormous. “Into bear-shifter mating habits, perhaps?”

“Into narrative structures involving magical communities.” Anouk’s dignity is impressive given the circumstances. “Purely academic.”

Laughter fills the booth. The fire crackles. The buckets sit ready for weather incidents.

And I realize, with a clarity that surprises me, that I’m happy. Not because things are perfect—they’re not—but because for the first time in years, I’m not facing the imperfection alone.

These women see my chaos. They’ve witnessed my weather. They know exactly how unstable I am.

And they’re still here. Still pouring wine. Still teasing me about bears.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I might have found my people.

The night winds down around midnight.

Zeph closes up early—a rarity, she informs me, but the new batch of telepathic ale requires supervision and she doesn’t trust the fermentation tanks to behave themselves. Anouk departs with dignified efficiency, already making notes in a small leather journal about our conversation. Leire hugs me at the door, fierce and warm.

“He’s a good one,” she murmurs against my hair. “Don’t let fear make you stupid.”

“I’m always stupid.”

“Then be stupid about this instead of against it.”

She walks toward Duskfall territory, where presumably her tiger-shifter mate is waiting with the same intensity she keeps describing. I wonder what that’s like—having someone wait for you with that kind of certainty.

I walk home through misty streets, warm from wine and friendship.

Ask your friends about bears. They know things.

They do know things. Things I wasn’t ready to hear but needed to anyway.

Torin is pursuing me. Not because he’s assigned to. Because he decided I’m worth pursuing. Because he looked at my storms and didn’t run.

My studio is dark when I arrive, the new shelving gleaming in the streetlight. Sturdy. Stable. Built by hands that held me through a storm.

He’s more than I expected.

I smile into the darkness.

Maybe I am too.

SIX

TORIN

Girls’ night lets out later than I expected.

I know because I’m still on patrol when Leire peels off toward Duskfall, and a few minutes later Sakura’s door clicks shut across the square, lamp light blooming gold behind her curtains before it dims to nothing.

I don’t go to her. That’s not what tonight is.

Tonight is walking the perimeter twice more than the assignment requires, listening to the mist settle over rooftops, thinking about the way she said maybe I am too like she didn’t know I’d catch it through the open window.

I did.