Lyra had asked him to come by that evening with a mysterious glint in her eyes and the simple promise: “I want to show you something.”

Now, as she led him out the back door of the house, sun-dappled trees swaying gently overhead, Hassian followed without question. He noticed new details at once—the soft curve of stepping stones set with purpose. A small sitting area had been arranged beneath the open sky, complete with two chairs, a low table, and a stone chiminea behind them. Nearby was a canopy-shaded dining nook with a grill. The scent of wood polish and earth lingered in the air.

Next to all of this was something new.

The conservatory sat tucked in the far corner of Lyra’s plot, its glass roof catching the afternoon sun like a jewel. Newly planted rose bushes surrounded the building.

Lyra opened the door, then moved aside so Hassian could walk in. Instead of bags of fertilizer and plant boxes, the large room had been purposely furnished.

Hassian stopped in the doorway. He didn’t speak. Not at first.

Lyra watched him nervously, fingers twisted together as he walked around, taking everything in. The rattan bed made with coral blankets and flanked by nightstands. A bookshelf that already held the beginnings of a small library. Two armchairs turned slightly toward each other for easy conversation. A dresser and wardrobe completed the furnishings. Various decorative items were scattered about—candles, lamps, some of Lyra’s favorite plushies.

"I know it’s not really outside,” Lyra said nervously as Hassian walked around, taking it all in. “And I’m not trying to... domesticate you or anything. It’s just, you like the stars and the quiet, and you said we should spend more time here. I thought maybe this could be somewhere you’d feel comfortable. When you stay. If you stay. It doesn’t have to be often. I just wanted there to be a space that felt like... you."

Hassian turned, his eyes landing on her. There was something unreadable in his expression, but it wasn’t distance. It was depth.
"You didn’t just think of me," he said. "You understood me."

That made her breath hitch.
"I wanted you to know you’re always welcome here, and wanted. However much, or little, you want. I’m not asking for anything. Just... offering."

He stepped forward and took her hand, lifting it to his lips.
"This means more to me than I know how to say."

His other hand rose to her face, thumb brushing her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her—not rushed or hesitant, but full of quiet certainty. Her arms came up around his neck, fingers curling into the fabric at his shoulder. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.

"You're remarkable. You know that?"

"Only when you're looking at me like that."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He stepped back again, glancing at the room once more.
"You even made space for Tau," he said, noticing the large dog pillow next to one of the armchairs.

"Of course I did," she said softly. "He’s the goodest boy."

Hassian drew her into his chest again and wrapped his arms around her like he meant to keep her there.

“And we adore you,” he whispered into her hair.

First Night

The evening was spent breaking in the new space. Dinner made on the grill. Rolling around in the grass, playing with Tau. Stargazing in the new sitting area. The entire space was comfortable without going overboard. "Since it’s not being used for its actual purpose, I think we should call it our Nest," Lyra said. "A place of peace and warmth that’s only for us."

Hassian gave her a satisfied smile.
"Now we have a Grove and a Nest."

They went inside and the door clicked softly behind them.

Hassian didn't say anything—just looked at her. His eyes had that heat again, the one that made her knees feel unreliable.

He stepped forward. “Take your hair down.”

Lyra blinked, pulse kicking up. “What?”

His voice was quiet, but sure. “I want to see all of you.”

She undid the tie slowly, curls spilling over her shoulders. The way his eyes tracked the motion? Made her feel like the most powerful creature alive.

He stepped closer, hands on her hips. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I think I’m starting to,” she whispered, hands sliding up his chest.

He kissed her then—deep, slow, possessive. When they pulled apart, she was breathless. He was already tugging at the hem of her shirt. They didn’t rush, but there was no hesitance either. Clothes came off between kisses and barely-muttered compliments, until she stood in front of him, bare and glowing in the low light. Hassian looked at her like a man starving.

“You’re mine,” he said, low and hoarse. Then again, like a vow: “You’re mine, Lyra.”

The words should have felt like possession, but instead they filled her with warmth, like a vow spoken to her bones. She wasn’t just wanted. She was chosen.

He guided her down gently, reverently, until her back met the soft bed she’d built for them both. He kissed her thighs, her belly, the place where her heart thundered loudest. She gasped when his mouth found her—his name tumbling out like a prayer. He didn’t stop until she was shaking, breathless, gone.

After, he crawled up beside her and hovered for a moment, checking her eyes, her breath, the soft smile on her face.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low, almost worried.

Lyra blinked, still dazed. “Okay? Hassian—I think I saw stars inside the ceiling.”

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “Good.”

He moved inside her slowly, carefully at first, watching her, feeling everything. She held on, whispered his name, wrapped her legs around him like she didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t shy. Every sound she made drove him deeper. Every time she whispered "more", he gave it. Their bodies knew the rhythm now, moving like something old and sacred and entirely theirs.

When he came, it was with her name on his lips, forehead buried in her shoulder, breath warm and ragged. “Lyra… Lyra…”

Later, they lay curled together in the quiet of the comfortable bed. Tau snored gently nearby, stretched long on the pillow she’d laid out just for him. Lyra leaned into Hassian’s side, her head resting against his shoulder, neither of them felt the need to fill the silence.

There would be more days like this—nights, too. Maybe not every one. But many.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “You’re here.”

She nodded without opening her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Self-Revelations

Hassian lay still, fully awake, with Lyra asleep against his chest. Her breath soft against his skin, steady as a tide. He loved how easily she could drift off to sleep in his arms—the trust she had in him to protect her, the connection between them. She had promised him a surprise, and she’d delivered. He was still in awe.

He watched the glass ceiling above them, constellations moving in their slow eternal arc—familiar and unchanged. But something inside him was not the same.

The Grove had long been his refuge—quiet, wild, untouched. It had cradled him when nothing else could. But now… he found himself comparing the rustle of trees to the sound of Lyra turning in her sleep. The scent of cedar and moss to the way she smelled–lavender and something sweet.

And though the Grove still called to him, he no longer needed its silence to feel whole.

Here, in the warmth she built for him—for them—he felt a different kind of stillness. Not lonely. Anchored. The kind that wrapped around his ribs and made it harder to breathe when he thought too much about it.

His arms tightened gently around her, and for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t waiting for the next moment he could be alone.
He felt home. He was exactly where he wanted to be.