The days leading up to the gathering blurred into a gentle rhythm of preparation and quiet growth. Each morning I woke wrapped in Darius’s warmth, his steady heartbeat a reminder that this life was real. The crisp autumn air carried the scent of woodsmoke and pine, and the forest around our cabin seemed to change colors overnight, painting everything in rich amber, scarlet, and gold.
I spent most of my time outdoors now. Lila returned twice more, bringing two of her friends along. We practiced tracking together, moving silently through the underbrush as I taught them how to read broken twigs, disturbed moss, and the subtle shift in wind that carried scent. Their enthusiasm was infectious. For the first time since arriving, I felt seen, not as an extension of Darius, but as someone with sk
