Lyra had just stepped into the conservatory when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps on the stone path outside. A familiar sound, now. The low jingle of Tau’s collar followed.
She turned toward the door with a smile already forming.

“Hello, beautiful,” came Hassian’s voice from just beyond the frame.

She grinned, her heart skipping the way it always did when he said that. “Hey, handsome.”

Tau trotted in first, tail high and proud. But right behind him, tucked shyly beneath his flank, came a much smaller plumehound. She was all lean limbs and oversized paws, a solid storm-gray coat, and eyes like burnished gold. She paused in the doorway, blinking up at Lyra with cautious curiosity.

Lyra’s brows lifted. “Who’s this little shadow?”

Hassian stepped into view, hands at his sides, expression unreadable save for the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “She’s for you.”

“Me?”

“She’s a miniature plumehound,” he explained. “Six months. Spayed. Field-trained. Came from an old hunter I trust in Bahari City. He said she needed someone gentle. Someone good. So, she’s yours if you want her.”

Lyra took a careful step forward, her breath catching. The pup didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, then walked forward and sat directly at Lyra’s feet, tail sweeping in slow, hopeful arcs.

Hassian added, “She doesn’t have a name. Thought you might want that part.”

Lyra crouched, sinking slowly to one knee. The pup leaned forward, sniffed her hand, then—after a moment of consideration—pressed her tiny forehead against Lyra’s knee.
“Oh,” Lyra whispered. “I think she just claimed me.”

“She did,” Hassian said. “Tau already told her you were worth it.”

Lyra laughed softly, brushing her hand over the pup’s back. “Hi, little one. You’re perfect.”

Tau wandered closer and sat beside them like an old sentinel, letting the pup press herself against his side. She fit neatly beneath his chin, and he rested his head atop her without protest.

Lyra looked up at Hassian, her voice full. “You really brought her for me?”

“I did.” He shifted, almost sheepish. “I should’ve asked. But then it wouldn’t be a surprise. If it’s too much—”

“It’s not.” She stood and closed the space between them, rising onto her toes to press a slow kiss to his cheek. “It’s not too much. It’s perfect.”

He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath since he arrived.
“She needs a name,” he said quietly.

Lyra glanced back at the pup, still tucked under Tau’s protective posture. “How about Kaja? It sounds strong. Wild. Like it belongs with Tau.”

Hassian nodded. “Kaja.” He tested it once under his breath. “It suits her.”

Lyra said the name softly—“Kaja”—and the pup lifted her head, blinked, and offered a single expectant yip. That small sound made them both laugh, turning a choice into a promise.

Lyra looked back up at him, eyes warm. “So now we’ve got a proper hunting team. You, me, Tau, and Kaja.”

He smirked. “Four’s a good number.”

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head to his chest, where his heart beat steady and sure beneath his tunic. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You just keep giving me more reasons to love you.”

His arms circled her in return, slow and sure. “Just trying to keep up with all the ones you give me.”

Lyra pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes bright, cheeks still flushed from joy. Then she turned, dropping into another crouch to stroke Kaja’s ears. The pup wriggled, paws shifting in excitement, and Tau leaned into them both as though anchoring this little circle together.

Hassian watched in silence, his arms folding loosely across his chest. The way Lyra’s hand lingered on Kaja’s fur. The way the pup already seemed to know she belonged. And the way Lyra’s smile softened every line of her face, filling the conservatory with warmth stronger than any hearth.
This was what he hadn’t known he wanted. Not just a partner, not just someone waiting at home—but this small, unexpected constellation of belonging. Her, Tau, the pup, and somehow himself among them.

When Lyra glanced back over her shoulder, he was watching. She tilted her head with a teasing grin. “You’re staring, hunter.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, moving closer until his hand brushed her shoulder. “Maybe I am.” His eyes dropped to the pup, then back to her. “Just… proud.”

“Proud?” she echoed, rising again with Kaja in her arms.

He nodded once, slow but certain. “That she chose you. That I was right to bring her here. That she’ll have the best home she could ask for.” His gaze held hers, steady as stone. “And so will I… if you’ll have me and Tau.”

Lyra’s breath caught. “You know I want that,” she said softly, the words trembling like a vow.

He exhaled, that quiet weight between them shifting into something steady—something that felt a lot like home.

Kaja barked once, as if sealing the moment. Tau huffed at the noise, nudging Hassian’s hand with a pointed insistence that he hadn’t been properly acknowledged in all this. Hassian chuckled, giving the plumehound’s ears a good rub. “Don’t worry, old friend. You’re still first.”

Kaja took that moment to clamp her teeth around one of his boot laces and tug with determined little growls. Lyra laughed, the sound ringing bright through the conservatory. Hassian sighed with mock defeat, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth.

“Looks like I’m outnumbered already,” he muttered.

“Get used to it,” Lyra teased, eyes gleaming as she nestled Kaja closer. “This is your pack now.”

Hassian watched them—Lyra radiant, Kaja nestled against her leg, Tau standing sentinel at their side—and felt the weight of it settle into something solid, certain. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said quietly.