Chapter Fifteen
1278 Words
As the night wore on, Dmitri and Sabrina huddled over the table, their low voices and laughter threading through the quiet cottage. What began as teasing banter gradually shifted into focused discussion, the seriousness of what they were preparing settling into the space between their words.
Sabrina sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by open books and unfurled scrolls, her fingers skimming worn parchment as she muttered incantations under her breath. Dmitri leaned over the back of a chair, arms folded, watching her with a mix of curiosity and caution.
“So,” he said, eyeing the cluster of spell components, “run this by me again. You’re not accidentally summoning a demon or anything, right?”
Sabrina smirked. “Only on Wednesdays.”
He grinned. “Lucky me it’s Tuesday.”
She shook her head but didn’t hide her smile. “Veil of Shadows cloaks the area—makes it harder for anything supernatural to detect. Silent Sentinel creates hidden guardians. They’ll stay dormant unless something sketchy crosses the boundary. Then they kick in.”
Dmitri let out a low breath. “Right. Creepy forest defense system. Got it. Want me to do anything while you work your magic?”
She looked up, thoughtful. “Actually… yeah. I need a few things from outside—dirt, fresh leaves, a strip of bark. Tying the enchantments to the land helps them anchor better.”
“Alright,” he said, already heading for the door. “I’ll go make friends with some trees.”
The door clicked shut behind him. For a while, all Sabrina heard was the rustle of parchment and the quiet hum of magical energy as she arranged the sigils.
Outside, beneath the moonlight, Dmitri moved through the trees like he belonged to them. His footsteps were light, practiced. The woods felt more like home than any four walls ever had. He gathered soil in his calloused hands, plucked curling leaves, and peeled bark from a birch tree with a whispered apology.
When he returned, he placed the bundle on the table with a satisfied nod. “One forest care package, as requested.”
Sabrina offered a grateful smile and immediately began weaving the elements into her spellwork. The air shifted—thickened—charged with power. A low thrum pulsed through the room like a heartbeat.
Later, they stood together at the edge of the warded perimeter, murmuring the final incantations. Magic pulsed outward in invisible ripples, disappearing into the earth and trees. Around them, everything fell still. Watchful. Protected.
Dmitri scanned the darkened woods, then looked at her. “Okay, so… we just built a magical security system with natural camouflage and guard dogs made of air. Totally normal.”
Sabrina bumped his arm. “High fantasy home improvement.”
“Do we get a plaque for this?”
“Only if you carve it yourself.”
Back inside, the fire crackled low in the hearth, painting the walls in warm amber. The heaviness of the day’s dangers had faded, replaced by quiet satisfaction—and something else. Something unspoken, but real.
Dmitri sprawled on the floor near the fire, head resting against the armchair. “I never thought I’d feel safe in a place like this,” he said softly. “But I do. With you.”
Sabrina looked down at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “Same.”
He didn’t say it—not out loud. Not yet. But he knew.
It wasn’t just the magic or the wards or the quiet victories.
He was falling for her. Hard.
And no one—no beast, no curse, no piece of his past—was getting near her without going through him first.
⸻
The wards were set. The fire had burned low. And the cottage had slipped into that tender hush that only came after surviving something dangerous together.
Sabrina stood near the hearth, arms loosely wrapped around herself, watching Dmitri stretch out on the sofa like he had every night since his arrival. He looked far too large for it—muscle, limbs, and restrained wildness, subdued for now. His head rested on a lumpy pillow that had definitely seen better centuries.
She hesitated. Then spoke.
“You know… you don’t have to sleep down here anymore.”
Dmitri looked up, one brow raised. “Oh? Planning to evict me to the woods?”
Sabrina smirked, stepping closer. “No. I mean… upstairs. With me. Just for safety,” she added quickly, cheeks warming. “If anything breaks through the wards, we shouldn’t be separated.”
He blinked, then sat up slowly, a teasing smile curving his lips. “Are you suggesting we cohabitate for strictly tactical reasons?”
“I’m suggesting,” she said, folding her arms, “that the sofa is uncomfortable and you look like you’re about to dislocate something.”
“So really, it’s about my health. How thoughtful.”
“Dmitri.”
He stood, the blanket slipping from his shoulders as he stretched with theatrical laziness. “Just clarifying. Should I bring a weapon? Or is spooning part of the defense strategy?”
She narrowed her eyes, fighting a smile. “If you’re going to make it weird, stay on the sofa.”
“Too late. I already packed my invisible overnight bag.” He gestured to his bare chest, then winked. “Ready for tactical spooning at a moment’s notice.”
Sabrina groaned and turned for the stairs. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” he said, following her up, “you just invited me to your bed. Feels like I’m winning something.”
The stairs creaked beneath them, the hush of the cottage wrapping around them like a secret.
Sabrina’s bedroom door stood slightly ajar. She pushed it open and flicked her fingers; candles along the dresser flared to life.
The room was layered in warmth and magic. Heavy violet curtains framed the windows. The bed was large, wrapped in gauzy dark fabric that shimmered in the candlelight. Crystals lined the shelves, tucked among bundles of dried herbs and worn books. A moth-eaten plush raven perched on the sill, eternally watchful.
Dmitri stepped inside and let out a low whistle. “So this is the inner sanctum.”
“Don’t touch anything cursed,” she warned, moving toward the wardrobe.
“Define cursed,” he muttered, poking a jar labeled heart of mandrake. “That could be half your décor.”
When she turned around, he was already pulling back the covers, his teasing expression softened into something quieter. More sincere.
She climbed in, pulling the blankets up around her. After a beat, he followed—carefully. Like this wasn’t just about safety anymore.
They lay there in the candlelit hush, not touching, but close. Magic still thrummed faintly in the air. Outside, the forest was silent.
Sabrina shifted, turning toward him.
Dmitri was already watching her.
“I’m not going to sleep much,” she murmured. “Still keyed up.”
He nodded. “Same.”
A quiet moment passed. Then she reached for him—slow, deliberate.
He met her halfway, sliding closer with the kind of care that made her breath catch. His arm came around her, steady and sure, pulling her gently against his chest until she fit into the curve of him. Not tight. Just close. Protective.
His other hand found her wrist beneath the blanket, fingers resting lightly there, like a promise.
Sabrina exhaled, long and soft, the last of her tension unraveling.
No more wards. No more masks.
Just warmth.
Just closeness.
They didn’t need to speak.
The world outside would wait for now.
- Writer
