The Grove was coming together, piece by piece. Simon and Rex were hard at work, building tables from Bahari heartwood pine—thick slabs of rustic, knotted wood that still smelled of sap and sea wind. They didn’t match. Not exactly level. Absolutely perfect.

Nearby, Hassian crouched with a length of green-twisting vine in one hand, fitting it carefully around a tall arch made of curving branches he'd set into the ground earlier. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but every so often, his eyes drifted to Lyra—watching her with a quiet softness he wasn’t even trying to hide.

Saraya moved purposefully across the Grove’s center, planting three-foot wooden stakes into the dirt to mark the dance floor. She tied thick rope between them, then added bundles of orange and deep pink flowers, pinwheels, and ribbons to each one, the whole thing coming alive in a burst of festive color.

Lexi balanced on a ladder—barefoot, of course—stringing handmade paper lanterns from tree to tree. She and Saraya had crafted them late into the night two days ago, cackling over glue-stuck fingers and who would fall off a chair first.

Auni—pushed a reel mower across the long-neglected grass, the blades whirring softly as he attacked the weeds with gusto. Every now and then he caught a bug for good measure.

Tau, meanwhile, was absolutely not working. He alternated between napping in patches of sun and watching everyone with lazy dignity. Kaja was far less chill—chasing butterflies, bouncing through flowers, and occasionally trying to herd Lexi off the ladder like a very concerned hall monitor.

And Lyra—Lyra was everywhere. Floating between tasks, hands covered in bark dust one moment, then holding fabric the next. She tied bows, fetched nails, taste-tested juice, soothed arguments over song choices, and always found her way back to Hassian. She didn’t even mean to, not really. Her body just...drifted toward him. Like always.

And he? He sought her eyes every time he finished something. Quietly seeking approval, or maybe just wanting to see her smile.

They were glowing, both of them. Not from the sun, but from something deeper—contentment, joy, the kind of happiness that made the Grove feel like the center of the world.

It was Lexi who finally broke the spell, pointing at their matching leather-cord necklaces with mock exasperation.

“You two already have pins,” she said, “and now you had to get matching necklaces?”

Lyra laughed, touching the runestone pendant at her chest. “It’s not a matching-matching thing.”

“It is,” Rex chimed in. “You’re adorable and disgusting.”

“They’re for protection,” Saraya added. “From ancient spiteful witches with major jealousy issues.”

“Still adorable,” Lexi said, smirking as she descended from the ladder. “But now I expect coordinated outfits on the wedding day.”

“You’ll be lucky if Hass even fixes his hair,” Simon deadpanned.

“I’m right here,” Hassian muttered. “And it’s Hassian.”

“I know.” Lexi winked. “That’s why it’s funny.”

First Dance Practice

As the day wound down and dusk crept across the Grove, the air turned golden and soft. Fireflies blinked in the underbrush. Someone had set up an old record player near the dance floor, and Rex was enthusiastically assuming the role of DJ. He had brought a full crate of records—ranging from soulful love ballads to absolutely absurd dance numbers—and had spent the better part of the afternoon defending his collection from Lexi’s heckling.

A heated debate was currently underway.

“Five songs, tops!” Saraya declared.

“We need ten minimum,” Rex argued, holding up an old favorite like it was a holy relic. “What kind of wedding only has five songs? ”

Lyra approached Hassian as the debate continued, a little breathless from helping Auni untangle ribbon from Tau’s tail. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile warm.

“I picked a couple of songs for us to choose from for our first dance,” she said. “Just listen to the first one and see if you like it.”

Hassian eyed the record player warily. “Do you like it, baby?”

She gave him the look.

“Of course I do. I picked it. But this isn’t just about what makes me happy—it’s about us.”

He nodded slowly, the knot in his chest easing just a little. “Okay.”

She gestured toward the newly created dance floor. “Saraya and Simon are gonna demonstrate. Just watch them, then we’ll copy what they do.”

“Copy,” he repeated, like he was being issued combat orders.

But he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms anyway, protective and a little hesitant. The moment her body pressed to his, the world felt steadier.

“This one is emotionally devastating,” Rex announced, sliding the needle down. “Which means it’s perfect.”

Saraya and Simon moved together easily—graceful, relaxed, completely in sync.

Off to the side, Lexi and Rex were also dancing, though “dancing” might’ve been too generous. They were flailing dramatically, dipping each other too fast, and trying to one-up each other’s ridiculous moves. No one paid them any mind.

Hassian held Lyra close, his arms a steady frame around her. He tried to pay attention to the steps, but it was her heartbeat against his chest he kept noticing. The rhythm of the song felt secondary to the rhythm of her. He was laser-focused on the lyrics, absorbing the tempo like he expected to be quizzed later, but every time his gaze found her face, the nerves dulled.

He bent his head, his lips brushing her hair. “This song is perfect.”

Saraya hollered from across the dance floor. “You’re not watching!”

Hassian flinched, standing up straight like a soldier caught slouching.

A minute passed. He leaned in again, voice quieter this time.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he confessed. His grip tightened on her waist, like letting go might mean failing.

The song ended.

Lyra turned to the others and clapped her hands. “Okay, everybody out. We’re overwhelming him.”

Lexi gaped. “We’re really getting kicked out?”

“Ten minutes, please.”

There were grumbles, but they obeyed—wandering toward the Grove’s edge with exaggerated sighs and teasing complaints. The moment their voices faded, Lyra turned back to him.

“How many firsts have we had here in the Grove?” she asked.

He tilted his head. “A lot.”

“And how many of them made you nervous—until you got through them?”

He smirked. “All of them.”

She stepped closer, brushing her fingers over his shirt. “Will you have one more first here with me?”

Without hesitation, Hassian wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, baby.”

She reached over and hit play again.

“Just follow me,” she whispered.

This time, he did. He closed his eyes and let her guide him, let the music seep into his skin and the rhythm find its way to his feet. At first it felt clumsy, like trying to speak a language he didn’t know. But her body was steady, sure, patient—and he realized she wasn’t asking him to master anything. She just wanted him with her.

The lyrics wove around them like a promise. Hassian loosened, moving with her instead of against her, and to his surprise, something inside him thrilled at the sway of it. Her laugh brushed against his jaw when he finally found the beat, and he thought maybe—just maybe—he could get used to this.

And in the heart of the Grove, with only the trees and the fireflies for witnesses, they danced for the first time—practicing for the one that would begin the rest of their lives.

The record faded into silence, leaving only the quiet rustle of leaves and the thrum of their hearts. Hassian let out a slow breath, his forehead resting against hers. For a man who claimed he couldn’t dance, he hadn’t once let her stumble. Lyra smiled up at him, teasing. “See? Not so bad.”

He huffed, almost a laugh. “Maybe it wasn’t so awful.”

Still, his hands lingered at her waist long after the music ended—like he wasn’t quite ready to let the dance go.

Fireside Futurecasting

The night air was cool and easy, scented with smoke and sizzling meat. Firelight flickered across happy faces, casting long, dancing shadows that made the Grove feel even more alive. Dinner had been cooked over an open campfire—skewers of grilled sernuk, crispy vegetables, and Rex’s regrettable attempt at fire-baked flatbread that had mostly turned into charcoal.

Now the group was gathered close around the crackling fire, full bellies and fuller hearts, laughter tumbling freely in the warm dark.

“Okay, but listen,” Rex was saying, waving a stick for emphasis like it was some kind of conductor’s baton, “Kenyata is not just beautiful—she’s terrifying in the hottest possible way. I mean, have you seen her throw a spear? I saw a tree apologize.”

Lexi snorted. “You don’t shut up about her. I’m just waiting for your ‘someday she’s gonna be my woman’ declaration.”

That got a round of snickers. Lyra raised an eyebrow. “Hey now.”

She turned her head toward Hassian, who was sitting just behind her, one arm draped comfortably across her waist.

“Are you my man, hunter?”

Hassian didn’t hesitate, his voice low and smooth with affection. “Always and forever, baby.”

“He rehearsed that,” Simon muttered.

Lyra turned back to Rex with a smug little smile. “Dream big, Rex. It can happen.”

That earned a round of groans.

“Here she goes again,” Simon moaned.

“Bragging,” Lexi added with mock severity.

“Disgusting,” Saraya agreed, but she was smiling too.

The teasing faded into quieter chatter, then drifted into something more thoughtful as everyone stared into the flames. The Grove, lit softly by lanterns and moonlight, had never looked more like a home.

“What’s gonna happen to this place?” Saraya asked, her voice soft with curiosity. “Once the wedding’s over, I mean.”

Hassian looked around, eyes sweeping the space slowly, like he was mentally walking through all they’d built. “I’ll keep taking care of it,” he said. “Make it a campsite, maybe. Somewhere people can come to rest. Someday…”
He glanced down at Lyra beside him, his expression shifting—softer, sweeter.
“…we’ll camp here with our children.”

Simon made an exaggerated gagging noise and leaned back like he’d been personally attacked. “That is sickeningly sweet. You’ve gone soft, Hass.”

Hassian didn’t even blink. “Fight me. And it’s Hassian.”

“…Nevermind.”

“Okay,” Rex piped up, ever ready with a scheme. “What if you rent the Grove out? Rustic honeymoon spot? Secret hideout for fugitives? I’m just saying, I know a guy.”

“I don’t think so,” Hassian drawled. “But you and Kenyata can honeymoon here.”

Rex grinned, lifting an imaginary glass. “We’ll take it.”

Laughter rippled around the fire again, big and easy. Slowly, the group began to break apart, yawns taking over, bedrolls unfurling. One by one, they settled in under the stars.

Lyra and Hassian curled up on top of the familiar fur blanket—the same one they’d used the night they first stargazed together, the night they’d first fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and the night everything between them changed. It smelled like pine needles, campfire smoke, and memories.

They lay close, wrapped around each other, sharing quiet kisses and listening to the not-so-quiet banter still coming from Saraya, Simon, Lexi, and Rex.

“I’m not putting up with all this chatter when we bring our kids,” Hassian murmured into Lyra’s hair, deadpan.

Lyra chuckled softly, tracing lazy circles against his chest. “Mmm. Better get used to it now.”

“Makes me so happy to see that smile back.” Hassian kissed her softly.

“Hey, stop making out.” Lexi called.

“It was one kiss, mind your business.” Hassian shot back causing the Grove to fill with laughter.

And as the night deepened around them, and the fire burned low, the Grove held them all—friends, lovers, future dreamers—in its ancient, watchful heart.As if it already knew they belonged to it.