Page 65 of Whisker me Away
"It's over," Kieran confirmed, his arm sliding around Freya's waist to support them both. "The Thornweaver is bound, the corruption is reversing, and Hollow Oak is safe."
"Thank the Mother," Miriam whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she pressed a hand to her heart. "When that grove lit up like a beacon and we heard that creature screaming, we thought... we feared..."
"That we'd made things worse?" Freya's smile was understanding. "For a while there, so did we. But it turns out love really is stronger than ancient evil."
"Love and partnership," Kieran corrected gently. "The binding spell worked because we stopped trying to handle it alone."
Maeve stepped forward with her usual directness, but her fierce expression was softened by something that looked suspiciously like pride. "You two look like hell. When's the last time either of you ate something?"
"Yesterday? Maybe the day before?" Freya's answer was vague enough to make everyone wince. "Time kind of blurred together during the crisis."
"Right. We're getting you home, getting food into you, and making sure you sleep before anyone asks you to do anything more heroic," Miriam declared with maternal authority. "The town will still be here when you wake up."
The walk back through the forest felt like a dream sequence, with evidence of renewal visible everywhere they looked. Trees that had been twisted and dying now stood straight and strong, their bark showing healthy growth and their branches full ofreturning life. The very air smelled different, clean and pure instead of tainted with corruption.
But the most magical part was the sound. As they made their way along the forest path, birds began returning to trees that minutes ago had been too poisoned to support life. First one tentative chirp, then another, then a growing chorus of song that spoke of joy and celebration and the simple pleasure of being alive in a world that was healing.
"Listen to that," Freya said softly, pausing to tilt her head toward the canopy where a cardinal was building a nest in branches that had been blackened stumps just hours before. "They know it's safe now."
"Animals always know," Edgar commented, his usual cheer returning as the reality of their success sank in. "They can sense things we miss. The fact that they're coming back means the corruption is truly gone."
"Not gone," Kieran corrected, thinking about the ancient evil now locked away beneath layers of protective magic. "Contained. The Thornweaver still exists, but it's bound so tightly it would take centuries to even begin weakening the spell."
"And by then, there will be other guardians," Freya added. "Other people who understand that partnership is stronger than individual power."
As they reached the edge of the forest and saw Hollow Oak spread before them, Kieran felt his tiger settle into deep contentment. The town looked exactly the same as it had hours ago, with the same cozy buildings and familiar landmarks, but everything felt different now.
This was home. Not just the place where he lived, but the community he'd helped save, the people he'd fought to protect, the life he'd built with the woman at his side. The rootless tiger who'd spent decades convinced he didn't belong anywhere had finally found his place in the world.
"Look," Freya said, pointing toward the town square where early risers were beginning to emerge from their homes. "People are coming out. They can sense that something's changed."
She was right. Despite the early hour, residents were stepping onto their porches and into their gardens, faces turned toward the forest with expressions of cautious hope. Mrs. Patterson stood beside her restored herb garden, tears streaming down her weathered cheeks as she watched healthy plants sway in the morning breeze. The Hendersons were walking through their apple orchard, marveling at trees that showed the first signs of recovery.
"They're going to want answers," Maeve observed. "Explanations about what happened, how you fixed it, whether it'll happen again."
"And they'll get them," Kieran said. "But not today. Today we rest, recover, and figure out what comes next."
"What does come next?" Elder Varric asked as they reached the town's outskirts. "The crisis is over, but there will be rebuilding to do, people to bring home, systems to restore."
"Community work," Freya said simply. "The same kind of partnership that saved us tonight, applied to everything else that needs fixing."
As they made their way through Hollow Oak's awakening streets, surrounded by friends and neighbors who'd trusted them with everything they loved, Kieran felt a sense of completion that went beyond successful missions or saved communities.
He'd found his mate, his purpose, his place in a world that had always seemed too big and uncertain for someone with no roots. And standing beside the woman who'd changed everything just by believing he was worth saving, he finally understood what home really meant.
It wasn't where you came from. It was who you chose to stand with when the world needed saving.
And he'd chosen perfectly.
36
FREYA
Three days after the binding ritual, Freya stood in her grandmother's garden watching miracles happen in real time. Where blackened earth had stretched like an open wound just a week ago, new growth sprouted with unprecedented speed. The heritage roses had not only returned to life but were blooming with vigor that surpassed anything in her family's records, their petals so vibrant they seemed to glow in the afternoon sunlight.
"It's not natural," she murmured to herself, kneeling beside a rosebush that had grown three feet and produced dozens of blooms in the span of seventy-two hours. "This level of recovery should take months, not days."
"Nothing about what we accomplished was natural," Kieran said from the cottage doorway, carrying two cups of coffee and wearing the kind of satisfied expression that made her pulse quicken. "Why should the healing follow normal rules?"
