Page 27 of Eggsactly the Right Gargoyle

We lie together in comfortable silence, watching the floating pollen lights dance above us. The vines that formed our bower have relaxed somewhat, though they still provide privacy. The moss beneath us remains soft and warm, conforming to our bodies like the world’s most perfect mattress.

Eventually, Talia’s breathing deepens and evens out as she drifts to sleep in my arms. I watch her face, peaceful in slumber, and marvel at how quickly she’s changed my world. A week ago, I was alone in my chapel, convinced solitude was my destiny. Now I hold this vibrant, magical woman against my heart, and I can’t imagine returning to that lonely existence.

I close my eyelids, allowing myself to rest. For the first time in centuries, I feel no need to maintain vigilance, and no fear of what might happen if I let down my guard. The grove protects us, the earth cradles us, and Talia’s warmth anchors me to this perfect moment.

When I wake, sunlight filters through the vine canopy, casting dappled patterns across our moss bed. Talia still sleeps beside me, her curls wild around her face, her lips curved in a slight smile. I resist the urge to wake her with kisses, content to simply watch her for a moment.

Something catches my attention. It’s a glint of light near our feet. I shift carefully, trying not to disturb Talia as I investigate. There, nestled in the moss where our legs entwine, sits another egg, larger and more ornate than the previous ones that seem to have merged to form it, because they’re nowhere in sight. I somehow sense this is the final one. Its surface swirls with gold and silver patterns that match the combined magic Talia and I created last night.

Chapter 7—Talia

I WAKE TO SUNLIGHTfiltering through a canopy of vines, golden rays warming my skin. The air smells of wildflowers and fresh earth, mingled with Dorian’s distinctive scent of stone and moss. He’s already awake, propped on one elbow beside me, his golden eyes warm with tenderness I never expected to see from someone so traditionally stoic.

“Good morning,” I whisper, my voice still husky from sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” he replies, and the nickname makes my heart skip.

Between us rests a new egg, larger than all the others, adorned with intricate patterns of gold and silver that swirl with our combined magic. When I touch it, the egg responds with a melodic hum that seems to sing directly to my soul.

“It’s like it’s singing to us,” I say.

“It is,” he says softly. “The resonance is perfect now.”

I study him in the morning light, noticing the softness in his expression that wasn’t there before. His stone features seem less rigid, as if our night together has smoothed away some of his hard edges.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask, tracing my finger along his jaw.

He captures my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “I’m thinking about how I never expected any of this.”

The grove breathes with new life around us, transformed by our combined magic—his stone and shadow, my sunlight and growth. Just like we’ve been transformed. “Dorian,” I begin,suddenly needing to voice the feelings growing inside me. “This isn’t just about magic or eggs or the grove. It’s about us. About how I feel when I’m with you.”

His expression softens further. “Tell me.”

“I’ve never felt so...seenbefore. Not just my magic or what I can do, but all of me. My flaws, fears, hopes. You seeme, and I see you too.” I place my hand over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm beneath his stone skin.

Dorian’s eyes swirl with emotion. “After Luetha, I closed myself off. I never expected to feel this way again.”

“What way?”

“Like I’ve found my home,” he whispers. “I love you, Talia. Against all odds and my own stubborn nature, I’ve fallen completely in love with you.”

Joy bubbles up inside me, bright and effervescent as sunlight. “I love you too, Dorian. Every grumpy, brooding, wonderful inch of you.”

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me, tenderly at first, then with deepening passion. When we finally part, we’re both breathless.

“So, what happens now?” I ask.

“I don’t know what my future holds, but I know I want you in it.”

The egg between us pulses brighter, as if approving our declarations. We dress between stolen kisses, then gather the egg and head toward town.

EVERSHIFT HAVEN’S TOWNsquare explodes with color as we approach. Flowers bloom everywhere, from cobblestones, around lamp posts, and cascading from rooftops. Dorian’s hand feels perfect in mine, his stone fingers intertwined with my flesh ones, as the egg pulses gently in his other arm.

“I’ve never seen the square like this even during previous Ostara celebrations,” he says.

“It’s beautiful,” I say. “Almost like the flowers are celebrating with us.”

In the center of the square, Grizelda sits atop a floating purple tulip throne, her pregnant belly prominent. She waves enthusiastically when she spots us. “There they are,” she calls out. “Our grove guardians have returned.”

---