Page 66 of Whisker me Away
"Because magic has laws, just like everything else." But even as she said it, Freya could feel the truth humming in her bones. Their completed mate bond hadn't just made her stronger, it had fundamentally changed the nature of her power. Wherebefore her magic had been healing and nurturing, now it actively encouraged growth and renewal on a scale she'd never imagined.
"Maybe the laws are different when you're working with a mate whose tiger believes absolutely in your ability to fix anything broken." Kieran settled beside her on the garden path, close enough that their shoulders touched. "Maybe partnership creates possibilities that individual power can't reach."
She then heard voices carrying across the morning air from the direction of town. Cheerful voices, filled with excitement and celebration rather than the fear and desperation that had characterized Hollow Oak for weeks.
"Right," she said, accepting the coffee cup with hands that only trembled slightly. "Today's the harvest festival. I'd almost forgotten."
"The town's been planning it since dawn," Kieran said with amusement. "Apparently saving the community from ancient evil calls for immediate celebration. Twyla's been cooking since four AM, the Tansley brothers have been stringing lights all morning, and Mrs. Patte keeps telling anyone who'll listen that this is the best harvest festival in thirty years."
"They're really going through with it? Even after everything that happened?"
"Especially after everything that happened." Kieran's gaze held gentle understanding. "People need to celebrate surviving, Freya. They need to mark the moment when their world went from ending to beginning again."
The festival preparations were visible from their vantage point in the garden, with colorful banners stretched between lampposts and tables appearing in the town square despite the early hour. What should have been a subdued gathering of grateful survivors was shaping up to be the kind of joyous celebration that made Hollow Oak famous throughout the Blue Ridge Mountains.
"I don't know if I'm ready for this," Freya admitted. "For people looking at me like some kind of hero when all I did was figure out how to accept help."
"You saved their homes, their families, their entire way of life." Kieran's voice was gentle but implacable. "Let them thank you. Let them celebrate what you accomplished."
"What we accomplished," she corrected. "The binding spell worked because we did it together."
"I know that, and you know that, but the rest of the town is going to want to make a fuss over their guardian. Might as well accept it gracefully."
They finished their coffee in comfortable silence, watching Hollow Oak transform from a town recovering from crisis into a community ready to celebrate survival. By noon, the sounds of music and laughter were drifting across the lake, carried on autumn breezes that smelled of apple cider and wood smoke instead of corruption and decay.
"Ready?" Kieran asked, rising to his feet and offering her his hand.
"No. But let's go anyway."
The walk to town felt like stepping into a fairy tale. Every garden they passed bloomed with impossible abundance, every tree stood straighter and stronger than before, even the lake reflected the sky with crystal clarity that made the surrounding mountains look like a painting. The accelerated healing that had begun in their garden was spreading throughout Hollow Oak with each passing hour.
"Freya!" Mrs. Patte's voice carried across the square the moment they appeared. "There she is! Our hero!"
"Oh no," Freya muttered, but it was too late to escape.
Within minutes she was surrounded by townspeople eager to express their gratitude, their relief, their amazement at what she'd accomplished. Neighbors who'd looked at her withsuspicion just days ago now treated her like she'd personally hung the moon, pressing forward with thanks that made her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Thank you for saving my garden," Mrs. Patte said, tears streaming down her weathered face. "I thought I'd lost everything my grandmother planted."
"Thank you for bringing my daughter back," another voice added. "She woke up from that coma this morning, asking for breakfast like nothing had happened."
"Thank you for giving us our home back," said Henderson, the apple farmer who'd wanted her banished just days earlier. "I don't know how to repay what you've done for us."
Kieran's presence at her back felt like an anchor in the storm of gratitude, his protective hovering keeping the crowd from overwhelming her while his quiet confidence reminded her that she deserved their thanks. When someone pushed too close or spoke too loudly, he simply shifted position, his tiger's authority creating space without him having to say a word.
"This is surreal," she whispered to him during a brief lull in the crowd. "A week ago, half these people wanted me gone."
"A week ago, they were scared and looking for someone to blame," he replied. "Today they're grateful and looking for someone to thank. Both reactions are human nature."
"Freya!" Twyla's voice cut through the crowd as the fae-blooded café owner approached with her arms full of autumn flowers. "I made you something special for the celebration."
The crown of flowers was simple but beautiful, woven from blooms that had somehow survived the corruption and now glowed with renewed life. When Twyla placed it on Freya's head, the gathered crowd broke into spontaneous applause that made her want to hide behind Kieran's broad shoulders.
"You look like a harvest goddess," he murmured, his voice warm with pride and affection. "Beautiful and powerful and absolutely perfect."
"I look ridiculous."
"You look like exactly what you are. The woman who saved us all."
