The fairgrounds of Kilima were unrecognizable under the glow of string lights and festival lanterns. Vibrant stalls lined the winding paths, each bursting with color and sound—sizzling food, laughter, music drifting on the summer breeze. The air was sweet with roasted nuts, fried dough, and too many flavors to name.

Lyra walked just ahead of Hassian, her fingers curled lightly in his as they moved through the crowd with Tau and Kaja trailing behind. The pups darted forward now and then, curious about the movement, but always returned quickly to heel.
Lyra glanced back at Hassian with a wide, open smile. “Can you believe this? Look at the lights!”

“I’m looking,” he said, voice quiet but warm. “You’re enjoying yourself.”

She squeezed his hand. “I really am.” Hassian’s hand tightened around hers just slightly, a silent warning he wouldn’t let anyone cross the line.

They met the others near the dock. Saraya was already mid-bite into a pastry, powdered sugar dusting her tunic. Simon stood beside her with two drinks in hand—one clearly hers. Lexi and Rex were mock-arguing over a bag of popcorn, both laughing between stolen handfuls.

“Oh, you made it!” Saraya beamed. “Lyra, this is insane. I love it.”

“Good to see you,” Lyra said, hugging her.

Hassia looked around and shook his head with a huff. He then gave a single nod to the group, arms loosely folded, gaze flicking between the food stalls and the distant tree line like he was still quietly keeping watch.

“You don’t like festivals?” Lexi asked, tilting her head.

“I don’t like chappa,” he replied.

Rex nearly choked on his drink. “Okay—fair.”

“But he came,” Lyra added gently, stepping beside him. “Because I wanted to.”

That earned a few exchanged glances among their friends, but no teasing. Not this time.

They wandered together through the festival, sampling food, exchanging tickets for games, laughing through failed attempts to win small prizes. The market hummed with energy and color. Children chased one another with paper lanterns, older couples danced near a small stage where musicians played in a whirl of strings and drums.

By the time the fireworks began, they’d found a spot near the water’s edge, the wide dock just large enough for all of them to sit with their legs dangling above the gentle waves. Lyra leaned into Hassian’s side without hesitation, and his arm curled naturally around her.

The first firework cracked open the sky in gold. A hush settled over them.
Each burst painted their faces in shifting hues—blue and violet, red and brilliant white. Reflections danced on the surface of the water, caught in Tau’s eyes and Kaja’s small, tilted head. The pups watched with open wonder, nestled behind their bonded people.

But Hassian wasn’t watching the sky.
His gaze had shifted to the edge of the crowd, just beyond the last ring of lanterns.
Tamala.
She stood apart from the others, arms crossed loosely, the pendant at her throat catching a glint of colored light. Her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders. She wasn’t pretending to watch the display—her eyes were fixed on them. On him.

The final firework split the sky, a dragon in violet and gold. Reflections shimmered across the water.

Hassian leaned toward Lyra, voice low but steady. “Walk with me?”

She looked up, concerned, but nodded without hesitation. They rose quietly from the dock and moved a little inland, out of earshot but still within sight of their friends.

He didn’t let go of her hand.

“I’m telling you this because there are no secrets between us—not to worry you,” he said. “Tamala is here. She was watching us the entire time.”

Lyra’s smile faded. “Of course she was. More fun.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” His voice was soft, roughened by regret. He brought both her hands into his and gave them a firm squeeze. “Don’t let her ruin your evening. I just wanted you to be prepared. I don’t think she’ll approach while we’re with others.”

“But you do think she’ll try something.”

“Seeing me with you... seeing me happy?” His jaw flexed once before he forced a breath out. “Yes. I don’t think she’ll be able to pass that up.”

Lyra tilted her head, watching him. “But if she ended things, why come after you at all?”

He hesitated, then allowed the faintest smirk. “Because she’s the kind of woman who’ll light the forest on fire rather than watch someone else find peace in it.”

Lyra blinked, a little startled by the bite in his voice.

“If she does anything,” Hassian added, quieter now, “I’ll handle it.”

She nodded.

“Stay close to me tonight….” it was more of a question than a demand.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

All Fun and Games

The Pop-a-Chappa event was chaotic, loud, and wildly entertaining. Chapaa-shaped balloons of varying sizes drifted upward from the water beyond the dock, each swaying just enough to make a clean shot difficult. Participants lined up with bows in hand.

"Big ones are worth more!" Rex shouted.

Lyra took aim with exaggerated focus. Beside her, Saraya whispered, “Ten tickets says I outscore Simon.”

“Make it twenty,” Simon replied, already drawing his first arrow.

Lexi hit a small balloon and whooped. Rex missed entirely and blamed the sun. They were all laughing, shouting, bumping into each other as they aimed and fired.

Lyra popped three in quick succession, catching the edge of a large one just before it floated out of range. Her cheer was joined by the others'. They each earned a decent haul of tickets—and more importantly, the laughter hadn’t stopped once.

Then came the Chapaa Chase.

As they prepared for the event Kaja barked once, ears perked, and made to sprint forward.
“Kaja—no. Stay.” Hassian pointed at the grass beside him.
The little pup growled in protest but flopped dramatically onto her belly, paws twitching. Tau laid a paw over her tail, unbothered.

“Three, two, one—go!”

The gate opened, and a couple dozen straw hat-adorned chappas were loosed into the hilly pen area. Chaos erupted immediately. Lexi ran headfirst into Rex as they both lunged for the same chapaa. Saraya dove heroically and missed, rolling down the hill in a tangle of limbs and laughter, her hair full of grass.

“I got one!” Simon yelled, hoisting a squirming chapaa above his head like a trophy.

“Get it to the pen before it bites you!” Saraya called from where she lay sprawled in a patch of clover.

Lyra caught one mid-dash, nearly tripping as it kicked against her arms. She grinned, breathless, and sprinted it toward the enclosure. When she turned back, Lexi was trying to bribe a chapaa with fruit, and Rex was chasing one in circles, muttering curses between wheezing breaths.

Off to the side, Hassian stood with his arms crossed again—only this time, his shoulders shook slightly. Lyra recognized the look. He was trying not to laugh.

Kaja barked in excitement, pacing like she was ready to leap in and show them all how it was done. Tau remained seated at Hassian’s side, noble and unmoved by the spectacle.

In the end, each of them managed to catch a few chappas and haul them into the pen. Dirty, bruised, and breathless, they stumbled back to the prize stand, laughing the whole way.

Lyra took her time sorting through the ticket options. She finally chose a soft blue Maji dragon plushie. She hugged it to her chest like treasure.

Seriously?

The crowd had thinned to murmurs and footsteps behind them, most festival-goers gone or drifting toward home. Lantern light pooled in patches across the path, leaving the edges cloaked in shadow.

Hassian and Lyra were just passing the line of trees when a shape slipped from the darkness.

“Well, well,” Tamala purred, stepping out with a half-smile. “Isn’t this sweet. Lovers, hand in hand. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the new girl.”

Hassian’s fingers tightened slightly around Lyra’s. “And you never will,” he said coolly, already turning to keep walking.

Tamala clicked her tongue. “That’s not very nice. Still, she’s very pretty. I’m surprised, though—a human?” Her smile turned sharp. “You never know when people who fall out of the sky might just vanish again. And we both know how you handle goodbyes.”

That was the line that made Lyra stop.

She turned, chin lifted. “Except I’m not going anywhere,” she said clearly. “I’ll be right here. Beside him.”

Tamala laughed, a little too delighted. “Oh, she’s feisty, Hassian. I like that. You have a type.”

Hassian exhaled through his nose and faced her again. “We haven’t bothered you, Tamala. You’ve got no reason to bother us. Why don’t you try something new—act your age. Show a little class.”

He turned again, gently guiding Lyra forward with him.

Tamala called after them, sing-song. “Where’s the fun in that, darling?”

A low growl came from behind them. Tau, who had stayed silent at Hassian’s side, now turned his head with ears back and teeth barely bared.

Tamala’s eyes sparkled. “That mutt never did like me.”

Tau gave a final huff before padding after them.

The walk away from the festival grounds was mostly silent, their steps falling in easy rhythm beneath the starlight. The faint sounds of laughter and music faded behind them, swallowed by the trees.

Only once they were well away from the village lights did Lyra break the silence.
“That was Tamala?” she said, incredulous. “She looks like she wandered out of a traveling puppet show. Honestly, what did you ever see in her?”

Hassian huffed a short laugh. “Honestly, I don’t know, baby.”

Lyra reached for his hand again, and he gave it willingly.

The rest of the walk was quiet, but something shifted in his grip. Not coldness. Not hesitation. Just… distraction. Like part of him had drifted somewhere deeper.

I Need You

When they reached the house, Tau settled outside with a soft groan, resting his head on his paws. Kaja followed them inside and flopped down on the rug with a happy sigh, tail giving a few sleepy thumps.
Hassian lingered by the door, arms folded across his chest, gaze far away.

Lyra watched him a moment, then stepped in close. “Hey,” she said softly. “Talk to me.”

He looked at her, jaw tightening. “It’s not that seeing her upset me.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “It was what she said. About you. About humans. It never occurred to me before… what if one day you just vanish the way you appeared? No warning. No goodbye. Just—gone.” Lyra felt it then—the sharp, quiet fear threading through his chest, pulling at his breath. His voice dropped, almost a whisper, raw and steady all at once. “How could I go on without you?”

She reached up and touched his face. “It’s not going to happen like that.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No,” she said, brushing her fingers along his jaw. “I can’t promise what we don’t understand. But I do know this—I’m not going anywhere. And as long as you let that fear take up space in your mind, Tamala wins. That’s what she wanted tonight. To get under your skin.”

He stared at her a moment longer, then closed his eyes and took a breath. Deep. Measured. Slowly let it out.
When he opened them again, something had returned. Not all of it, but enough.

“I really need you right now, baby,” he said quietly. “Just… need you close.” Every instinct, every bit of tension in his body, seemed to funnel into that need—her presence anchoring him in a world that had tried too hard to remind him how fragile it all was.

Hearing those words from him stirred something deep inside Lyra. She rose onto her toes, kissed him gently. “I’m here. Always here for you, hunter.”

The moment the door closed behind them, Hassian’s tension broke through like a dam. He pressed her to him with a force that took her breath, clothing came off, hands roaming, gripping—his worry, his fear, his relief all tangled in each touch.

Lyra responded instantly, but this time she didn’t wait for him to lead. She rose on tiptoe, sliding her hands along his chest, along the hard line of his arms, and pressed herself against him. Her eyes searched his, steady and commanding, and for the first time that evening, Hassian let himself be unguarded.

She guided him back to the soft bed, sliding into his lap so he could feel her warmth and weight, the subtle curve of her body pressing against him.
“Feel me,” she whispered, voice soft but insistent, eyes locked on his. “I’m right here. Let me take care of you.”

He groaned, hands tightening on her hips, pulling her closer. “You… you have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I do,” she replied, tilting her head, lips brushing his ear, “and I like it.” She said, rolling her hips over him.

Every movement, every gasp, every whispered moan was a quiet surrender to the day’s adrenaline, to the closeness they craved. Hassian’s hands found her hips, gripping gently at first, then more insistently as her movements coaxed him, slowed him, anchored him. Lyra’s touch was soothing, but her rhythm, her deliberate dominance, carried heat and authority—her way of telling him he didn’t have to hold everything inside.

“Just like that,” Hassian breathed, voice rough and ragged. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” she promised, eyes dark with heat, a small, triumphant smile curving her lips. “Not until we’re both… exactly where we need to be.”

Every kiss, every stroke, every press of skin to skin spoke of relief and need, of trust and longing. Lyra’s movements set the pace, riding the tension out of his shoulders and into the fever of the moment. Hassian’s breathing hitched, and he clutched her closer, letting her take the lead, letting her steady him while the rest of the world fell away.

The day’s tension, the adrenaline, the close call with her in his mind—all of it made the way he pulled her close feel almost urgent, a quiet storm that only she could calm.

Hassian tightened his grip on her hips, voice low and rough in her ear. “Mine… Lyra, say it.”

She pressed her hands against his chest, tilting her head up to meet his burning gaze. “I’m yours, hunter. Always yours.”

His jaw flexed, and with a growl that shook through him, he moved, every motion claiming her as if the world itself could try to take her away. “Mine,” he rasped again, not a question this time but a vow.

When they finally collapsed together, flushed and trembling, Hassian pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes dark with desire but softened by relief and gratitude. His chest heaved against hers. “You’re here,” he whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied, and this time it wasn’t just words—it was a promise written in the curve of her body, the fire in their entwined limbs, the heat still thrumming between them, and the quiet, unshakable truth of the moment.

The stars above burned bright.
And Hassian didn’t doubt it.
He was exactly where he was meant to be.