Page 57 of Roaring Spell

I gather her into my arms—so small, so light, fitting against my chest like she was designed for this—and carry her to my bedroom.

My bed is large. Built for someone my size. She looks tiny in it, curled on her side, dark hair spread across my pillow.

I pull the covers over her. Smooth hair from her face. Let myself look—just look—at the woman who’s become everything I didn’t know I was waiting for.

“I meant what I said.” Her voice is muzzy with sleep.

“Which part?”

“All of it.” She burrows into the pillow. “Stay?”

The question is raw. Vulnerable. Not the storm or the uncertainty—just her, asking plainly for what she wants.

“I’ll be on the couch.”

“That’s not staying.”

“It’s staying adjacent.”

“Mmm.” Her eyes drift closed. “You’re warm. Good for sleeping.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.” A pause. Then, barely audible: “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad the explosion didn’t... I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad too.”

Her breathing evens out.

I stand in my bedroom doorway, watching her sleep in my bed, and let myself feel everything I’ve been holding back.

I take the couch. My feet hang over the end, my back protests the lack of support.

I don’t care.

She’s in my bed. She called me her home. She read my writing and called it beautiful.

I smile in the darkness.

Progress.

ELEVEN

SAKURA

Three days after Torin absorbs a magical explosion and shrugs it off as “seemed like a good idea,” the studio is wrong before I even open the door.

I feel it—a disturbance in the air, a wrongness that prickles against my skin like static electricity. The wind chimes that usually jingle a greeting are silent. Still. Dead.

My hand freezes on the door handle.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe you’re being paranoid. Maybe⁠—

I push the door open.

Glass crunches under my feet.

The crystals. My beautiful crystals, carefully arranged and charged over weeks of work—shattered. Scattered across the floor like broken teeth. The salt room’s door hangs crooked on its hinges. Treatment tables overturned. Plants torn from their pots, soil scattered across the floorboards.