Page 84 of Lavender and Honey

The game continues, laughter bubbling up more frequently as the clues get increasingly creative or outlandish. Soren and I develop a surprising rhythm, often needing just a glance to communicate. It feels strange but exhilarating to connect with someone this way—intuitive, effortless.

"Last round," Lucian announces after we've played for nearly an hour. "The teams are tied."

"Pressure's on," Elias says, studying the remaining cards with intense concentration. "Book, three," he finally tells Finn.

Finn makes his guesses, getting two right but missing the third. Elias sighs dramatically, though his eyes shine with affection for his packmate.

"Your turn," Lucian tells Soren. "One word, one chance to win."

Soren studies the cards, his usual hyperactive energy channeled into focused stillness. "Home," he says finally, his eyes meeting mine with unexpected seriousness.

The word hangs in the air between us, weighted with meaning beyond the game. I look at the remaining cards, trying to think which one Soren would associate with home. And then I see it—the word "Haven" nestled among the others.

"Haven," I say softly, reaching out to touch the card.

Soren's smile blooms slowly, transforming his entire face. "That's it. That's the one."

"Winners," Lucian declares, but I barely hear him.

Home. Haven. The words echo in my mind, reverberating with implications I'm not quite ready to examine. Somehow, in this warm kitchen with these four men who have carved themselves spaces in my carefully guarded heart, the concepts don't seem as frightening as they once did.

Soren whoops victoriously, pulling me into another side hug. "Told you we'd crush them!"

Finn shakes his head, smiling. "Good game. You two have a surprising connection."

"We do, don't we?" Soren says, his arm still draped casually around my shoulders. The weight of it is comforting, anchoring me to this moment of unexpected joy.

My cheeks warm under the attention, but I don't pull away. Instead, I let myself sink into the feeling of belonging that wraps around me as surely as Soren's arm. My lavender scent—still strange to me after so long hiding it—mingles with theirs in the air, creating something new and complex and beautiful.

For tonight at least, I'm home.

‘

Chapter Fifty

The hour grows late without my notice, time slipping by in the comfortable haze of games and laughter. It's only when I stifle my third yawn behind my hand that I glance at the ornate clock on the wall, its hands positioned in a way that makes my heart stutter. Eleven forty-seven. Almost midnight, and I hadn't even thought about leaving until this moment. My car sits in their driveway, keys tucked in my purse by the door, waiting to take me back to my empty apartment where the silence would press against my ears after hours surrounded by their gentle chaos.

"Oh," I breathe, the sound barely audible even to my own ears. "I didn't realize how late it's gotten."

Four pairs of eyes turn to the clock, then back to me. We've migrated to the living room after several rounds of Codenames gave way to a different card game, then another. Now we're sprawled across the comfortable furniture—Elias and I on the couch, Finn in an armchair, Soren cross-legged on the floor bythe coffee table, and Lucian leaning against the mantle of the fireplace where flames dance in hypnotic patterns.

"Time flies," Soren says with a lazy smile, his head tilting back to look at me from his position on the floor. "We could go for another round if you're not too tired."

My fingers fidget with the hem of my sweater, a nervous habit I thought I'd outgrown. "I should probably get going," I say, though the words feel heavy on my tongue, reluctant to be spoken. "It's a work day tomorrow."

Something flickers across Lucian's face, there and gone too quickly to identify. He straightens from his casual pose against the mantel, his movements fluid and deliberate. "It is late," he agrees, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate in the quiet room. "Too late, perhaps, for driving."

I blink, parsing his meaning. "Oh, I'll be fine. Haven's Rest isn't exactly known for its nightlife or traffic."

"It's not the traffic I'm concerned about," Lucian says, his steel-gray eyes holding mine. "It's been a long day, and you're tired. I don't like the thought of you driving alone when you can barely keep your eyes open." As if to prove his point, another yawn tries to escape me. I catch it behind my hand, but not before they all notice.

"You could stay," Elias says softly beside me, his voice careful, neutral, offering without pressure. "If you wanted to."

My heart hammers against my ribs like a trapped bird. Stay? Here? The thought sends a cascade of conflicting emotions through me—desire and apprehension, longing and fear. I haven't spent the night with anyone since...I hadn’t even been able to stay over at Averys.

"I don't have anything with me," I say weakly, grasping for practical objections. "No toothbrush, no clothes..."

"We have spare toothbrushes," Finn offers, his calm voice a counterpoint to my internal turmoil. "And I'm sure we can find something comfortable for you to sleep in."

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