Page 44 of It's In His Hiss

Love blooms here in strange soil. Sometimes, it comes with fangs. Or snakes. Or a backstory that requires three scrolls and a glossary. But it’s real. It’s messy. It’s ours.

Later, Gordy and I are alone again, curled up on our rooftop balcony. The city glows below us, the sky streaked with stars, and our snakes are coiled lazily together like a sleepy little storm cloud.

“I didn’t think I’d get this,” Gordy says, voice quiet. “You. A family. Peace.”

“You got it all,” I whisper, resting my hand on the gentle swell of my belly. “And I got you. Snakes and all.”

He turns to me, brushing his fingers along my jaw. “You’re going to be the most powerful, radiant, chaos-wielding mother the magical world has ever seen.”

“I hope so,” I whisper. “Because this baby’s going to inherit the drama gene.”

“One hundred percent.”

We sit in silence for a while, the breeze teasing our skin, the air humming with quiet magic.

And as his snakes curl protectively around my shoulder and my fingers link with his, I realize something.

The curse wasn’t being turned to stone.

The curse was living like I didn’t deserve love. And the blessing was breaking that curse with laughter, with hope, with cake and ribbon-fanged babies and a reclusive gorgon who looks at me like I hung the stars for him.

This is our life now.

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