Page 7 of Eggsactly the Right Gargoyle (Evershift Haven #7)

I WAKE TO SUNLIGHT filtering through a canopy of vines, golden rays warming my skin. The air smells of wildflowers and fresh earth, mingled with Dorian’s distinctive scent of stone and moss. He’s already awake, propped on one elbow beside me, his golden eyes warm with tenderness I never expected to see from someone so traditionally stoic.

“Good morning,” I whisper, my voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he replies, and the nickname makes my heart skip.

Between us rests a new egg, larger than all the others, adorned with intricate patterns of gold and silver that swirl with our combined magic. When I touch it, the egg responds with a melodic hum that seems to sing directly to my soul.

“It’s like it’s singing to us,” I say.

“It is,” he says softly. “The resonance is perfect now.”

I study him in the morning light, noticing the softness in his expression that wasn’t there before. His stone features seem less rigid, as if our night together has smoothed away some of his hard edges.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, tracing my finger along his jaw.

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’m thinking about how I never expected any of this.”

The grove breathes with new life around us, transformed by our combined magic—his stone and shadow, my sunlight and growth. Just like we’ve been transformed. “Dorian,” I begin, suddenly needing to voice the feelings growing inside me. “This isn’t just about magic or eggs or the grove. It’s about us. About how I feel when I’m with you.”

His expression softens further. “Tell me.”

“I’ve never felt so... seen before. Not just my magic or what I can do, but all of me. My flaws, fears, hopes. You see me , and I see you too.” I place my hand over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath his stone skin.

Dorian’s eyes swirl with emotion. “After Luetha, I closed myself off. I never expected to feel this way again.”

“What way?”

“Like I’ve found my home,” he whispers. “I love you, Talia. Against all odds and my own stubborn nature, I’ve fallen completely in love with you.”

Joy bubbles up inside me, bright and effervescent as sunlight. “I love you too, Dorian. Every grumpy, brooding, wonderful inch of you.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me, tenderly at first, then with deepening passion. When we finally part, we’re both breathless.

“So, what happens now?” I ask.

“I don’t know what my future holds, but I know I want you in it.”

The egg between us pulses brighter, as if approving our declarations. We dress between stolen kisses, then gather the egg and head toward town.

EVERSHIFT HAVEN’S TOWN square explodes with color as we approach. Flowers bloom everywhere, from cobblestones, around lamp posts, and cascading from rooftops. Dorian’s hand feels perfect in mine, his stone fingers intertwined with my flesh ones, as the egg pulses gently in his other arm.

“I’ve never seen the square like this even during previous Ostara celebrations,” he says.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Almost like the flowers are celebrating with us.”

In the center of the square, Grizelda sits atop a floating purple tulip throne, her pregnant belly prominent. She waves enthusiastically when she spots us. “There they are,” she calls out. “Our grove guardians have returned.”

She floats toward us with several others trailing behind, including Evony Johnson, Bella from the café, and Hecate trotting alongside, tail held high.

“My dears,” says Grizelda, “You’ve done it! The Glimmergrove is awake and restored. I can feel the magic from here.” She glances at Dorian’s arm, half-concealing the egg. “And you’ve brought the final egg. Just perfect.”

I look between their smug expressions. “What’s going on? Did you know the grove would awaken?”

Hecate barks a laugh. “Oh, honey, they knew a lot more than that.”

“We might have nudged things along a bit,” says Grizelda, sounding not at all ashamed.

“Nudged?” repeats Dorian, dropping his voice.

Evony adjusts her glasses. “Perhaps ‘orchestrated’ is a more accurate term.”

“The resonance eggs were my creation,” says Grizelda. “We knew the Glimmergrove needed both of you to awaken properly. It took only a simple magic spell to find out it was crying out for a sun witch and a gargoyle guardian. The grove requires balanced energies.”

“The love song was my idea,” says Hecate proudly. “Nothing brings people together like music.”

“You manipulated us.” Dorian bares his teeth and growls, though there’s less anger in his voice than I’d expect.

“We facilitated,” corrects Grizelda with a smile. “The connection between you was already there, waiting to bloom. We just provided opportunities for it to flourish.”

“Like plants needing the right conditions to grow,” says Evony.

“So all of this was a matchmaking scheme?” I ask.

Grizelda’s expression softens. “Not just that. The Glimmergrove truly needed both of you. Its magic has been dormant too long, and Ostara is the perfect time for renewal. We simply recognized its guardians needed renewal too.”

Dorian sighs. “I don’t know whether to thank you or banish you.”

Grizelda laughs. “Oh, Dorian. After five centuries, you should know better than to threaten a witch.” She floats closer, patting his cheek affectionately. “Besides, can you honestly say you regret what’s happened?”

He glances at me, and his irritation visibly dissolves. “No, I don’t regret it.”

“Wonderful.” Grizelda produces a clipboard and hands it to me. “Congratulations, my dear. You’re officially in charge of the Ostara Festival.”

I blink in surprise. “What? But I thought—”

“That I was temporarily stepping back? That my putting you in charge was all a ruse to get you started on the right path? Oh, no.” She pats her belly. “This little one is due in three weeks. Besides, you’ve proven yourself more than capable.”

I take the clipboard hesitantly. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this responsibility.”

“Nonsense. You’ve already revived an ancient magical grove. The festival will be simple by comparison.”

Dorian squeezes my hand and steps closer. “I’ll co-chair with you. We can manage it together.”

My eyes widen. “Really? You’d do that?”

“Of course,” he says with a smile that transforms his stony features. “We make a good team, don’t we?”

Grizelda looks delighted. “Perfect. The festival is already underway, but there’s still much to do.” As she floats away to handle some flower arrangements, Dorian turns to me.

“Guardian of the Glimmergrove,” I say thoughtfully. “It has a nice ring to it.”

“It’s a serious responsibility I failed at before.”

“You didn’t fail,” I say firmly. “The grove went dormant, yes, but now it’s awakening again, and you’re not alone.”

Something settles in his expression, like a century-old restlessness finally finding peace. “We should focus on the festival first,” he says, gesturing to the clipboard. “One major magical responsibility at a time.”

I laugh. “Fair enough. Where should we start?”

He scans the list. “Apparently, we need to approve the sunrise altar, check the maypole enchantments, and taste-test the ceremonial honey cakes.”

“Taste-testing sounds like the perfect place to begin,” I say, linking my arm through his.

As we make our way through the festival grounds, townspeople nod and smile. Dorian absorbs these interactions, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, yet somehow more at peace than I’ve seen him.

“You’re smiling,” I say as we reach the honey cake stand.

“Am I?” He touches his face, surprised.

“It looks good on you.” I rise on tiptoes to kiss him. “You should do it more often.”

“I suspect I will,” he says, “As long as you’re around to inspire it.”

The egg in his arms pulses in agreement, its glow matching the warmth spreading through my chest. Whatever Grizelda and her matchmaking squad intended, I can’t deny the result. For the first time since arriving in Evershift Haven, I feel completely at home, connected to Dorian, to the grove, and to the cycle of renewal that Ostara represents.

Solar witch and gargoyle guardian. Stone meets sun. Hearts entwined, souls aligned.

The balance is finally restored.