Page 38

CALLUM

T he moon rose full over Hollow Oak, casting silver light across rooftops and trees like the town had been dipped in quiet magic.

Most of the windows had gone dark. The kids were tucked in, fires banked, shop lanterns blown out.

The only sounds were cicadas, the gentle swish of breeze through pine and the unified breathing of Callum and Cora as they enjoyed the moment of peace entwined in each other’s embrace.

He eventually pulled away, letting her adjust her shawl and took in her glow that had only seemed to have grown brighter since the blood bond had been severed. Since she had been allowed to be herself.

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. The moonlight painted her in silver and shadows, and he felt himself feel suddenly like a vulnerable school boy.

“Come walk with me?” he asked, voice low.

She tilted her head, amused. “At this hour? Planning to show me some secret ranger trail?”

“Maybe.” He reached for her hand. “Just trust me.”

She didn’t hesitate. She never had when it came to him.

They crossed the quiet square, past the well and the mercantile. Even the Silver Fang’s shutters were drawn tight. Cora leaned into him as they passed beneath the trees, her fingers laced through his like she’d always been there. Like her palm belonged against his.

The deeper they went into the woods, the more peaceful it became, like the forest had been waiting for them to return. Since the relic’s fall, the Veil had stilled. No more restless energy, no wrongness lingering at the roots. Just pine needles, cool air, and a sky full of stars overhead.

Callum led her to a small clearing tucked behind the western ridge. The path wound along a slope where wild violets grew thick, and the trees bowed just enough to make it feel hidden from the rest of the world.

She looked around, brow lifting. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here.”

“Good,” he said, pulling her closer. “I wanted it to be just ours.”

She smiled up at him, teeth catching her bottom lip in that way that always knocked something loose in his chest. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “You done teasing?”

“Not even close.”

He turned to face her fully. “Then let me say what I need to before you distract me again.”

Her grin faltered, and she blinked. “Okay.”

Callum took a breath. The wind carried the smell of damp moss and moonflowers in bloom. She waited, quiet, giving him the space to speak without pressure. That was the thing about her, she never demanded his words, only listened for the ones he was ready to offer.

“I’ve never asked anyone for a damn thing,” he started. “Not since Tessa. I thought I didn’t need to. Thought protecting the town, doing the work, keeping people safe… that was enough.”

She didn’t speak. Just waited.

He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, carved wooden box. Hand-shaped. Uneven. Smoothed by his thumb more times than he’d admit. He passed it to her without fanfare.

She opened the lid.

Inside sat a ring. Silver, simple, etched with three small markings; her initials, the forest’s crest, and the mark of the lion.

Her mouth parted slightly. She looked up, eyes wide and shimmering. “Callum…”

“You’re mine,” he said quietly. “Not because a bond says so. Not because the Veil hums when you walk. But because I’ve watched you choose love, even when it hurt. Because I’ve seen you fight like hell and still whisper to flowers. Because when you smile, the damn forest leans in.”

She pressed her hand over her heart.

“I love you,” he continued. “And I want every damn day of yours tied to mine. Not as a promise we make once. But as a choice we make again and again. So marry me, Cora Thorne. Let’s make it known.”

Her voice broke. “Yes.”

He let out a breath, chest lifting as her answer settled deep inside him.

“Yes,” she said again, stepping into him, curling her fingers around his shirt. “Gods, yes.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger, heart hammering. It fit like it had waited for her. She lifted her hand to admire it, laughing through her tears, then looked up and cupped his face.

“I never wanted to belong anywhere,” she whispered. “But I want to belong with you.”

“You already do,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers.

The kiss was slow and steady, like a seal on a vow already carved in soul. Her magic flared faint and golden, his aura warm and deep. Around them the forest sighed, the wind weaving soft through the trees. The moon, full and finally unhidden, cast a silver glow on the ring now shining between them.

They stood there a long time in the clearing—two halves made whole—while the night wrapped around them and the future waited, bright and wide open.