Claire's ridiculous story continued spiraling into absurdity, growing more elaborate with every exaggerated gesture and wild expression she could muster. Somehow, the magical chicken had now been crowned the ruler of an imaginary kingdom after solving a grand riddle involving enchanted pastries and a river that only flowed backward.
Camille, sitting cross-legged across from her, lazily interrupted every few minutes to point out plot holes."That's not how rivers work, Claire.""Magic river, Camille. Keep up.""And the pastries?" Camille deadpanned."Obviously symbolic!" Claire insisted with a wide grin.
Tessa, who had been quietly nibbling on a pastry, calmly added without blinking, "Symbolic of your questionable mental stability."
That made Diana snort into her tea, her regal composure cracking.
I laughed so hard I nearly doubled over, my sides hurting, the kind of pure laughter that made the world brighter and lighter without even trying.
And right there, in the middle of that chaotic, ridiculous, beautiful scene, Lillian reached out and brushed a thumb gently along my jawline, a touch so light it felt like a secret. I turned to her, breath catching slightly.
Her green eyes softened, gleaming in the golden light. "You're glowing," she said quietly, just for me.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out except a soft, helpless sound. Lillian just smiled, the kind of smile that made my heart ache and soar at the same time.
Across the blanket, Diana caught my gaze, raising her teacup slightly in a silent, knowing toast. She didn't say anything either—she didn't need to. Her smirk said everything: We see you. We're proud of you. We love you.
Even Tessa, usually so reserved, offered a tiny, approving nod when I caught her eye.
It was almost too much.And yet not enough.
I wanted to stay in this moment forever.
As the night deepened, the games shifted into something softer. Claire eventually wore herself out from talking and flopped onto her back, staring up at the few visible stars. Camille pulled out a deck of simple fortune-telling cards, dealing them out half-seriously while predicting "tremendous romantic doom" for Claire, who took it as a compliment.
Tessa quietly worked to keep the candle flames steady with tiny flicks of her magic whenever the wind threatened to snuff them out. Diana sprawled elegantly on her side, watching the group through heavy-lidded eyes, like a lioness basking in the calm after the hunt.
And Lillian… she stayed close.
Close enough that when I finally leaned my head against her shoulder, she didn't flinch or tease. She just smiled and leaned her head gently against mine in return.
I closed my eyes, letting the soft hum of their voices wash over me, the warmth of their presence soaking into every part of me that had been cold for too long.
This wasn't the life I had expected when I first woke up as Sera Vandren.It wasn't the life I thought I deserved.
But it was the life I wanted.More than anything.
"I'm lucky," I whispered, half to myself.
Lillian heard it anyway. Her fingers threaded gently through mine, squeezing once, firm and certain.
"No," she said, her voice a soft breath against my skin."We're the lucky ones."
I smiled into her shoulder, heart full to bursting.
Around me, Claire's sleepy laughter, Camille's low chuckle, Diana's murmured teasing, Tessa's quiet hums—all of it blended into something safe and whole and real.
The night wore on, but none of us made any move to leave. The small candles flickered gently, their soft light casting a golden glow over the courtyard, making everything feel suspended—untouched by the rest of the world.
Claire had dozed off completely now, one arm slung over her eyes to block out the lanterns above, breathing deep and even. Tessa had quietly shifted the blanket so it covered her, moving with such careful precision that it made my chest ache a little. Tessa could be so subtle in her care, so quiet that you might miss it if you weren't paying attention.
Camille shuffled the deck of cards absently, occasionally glancing at me with that sly, almost lazy smile she wore when she was hiding how much she cared. Diana lounged nearby, propping herself up on one elbow, eyes half-lidded but alert, watching all of us like some amused guardian who would still burn the world if we asked her to.
And Lillian stayed beside me.
Always beside me.
Her hand played with my hair now, slow and absent, twirling a loose strand around her finger before letting it fall again. She didn't say anything, but her touches spoke louder than words. They said I'm here.I'm staying.You're safe.
The feeling was overwhelming, but not in a bad way.
Not anymore.
I let my head fall against her shoulder fully, closing my eyes, breathing her in—warm, floral, and something uniquely hers.
For a long time, the only sounds were the gentle crackle of magic keeping the lanterns floating, the occasional rustle of the wind through the hedges, and the soft, steady breathing of the people around me.
Family.That's what they felt like now.
Not the family I had been born into or forced into.A family I had chosen.And who had chosen me back, without hesitation.
"I wish every night could be like this," I murmured, half-asleep.
"It can be," Lillian whispered against my hair. "As long as you're with us."
The simplicity of her words nearly broke me.
I opened my eyes slightly, just enough to see Camille watching me, her ice-blue gaze soft, her card deck forgotten in her lap. Diana caught my glance too, and she simply smiled—no smirk, no teasing, just a real, honest smile that made my heart stumble in my chest.
Tessa, still quietly keeping watch, met my gaze last. She didn't speak—she didn't need to. Her steady presence said it all.
They were here.For me.
Maybe I didn't deserve it.Maybe I had spent too long believing I was some twisted reflection of the girl who had once borne this name.Maybe I still had so much more to figure out about who I really was.
But they didn't care about any of that.They had seen me—and stayed.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, letting the warmth in my chest drown out the fear.
"I love you guys," I whispered before I could second-guess it.
The words slipped out, soft but real, falling into the golden-lit courtyard like a small, shining truth.
Lillian froze for a heartbeat, then smiled so radiantly I could feel it rather than see it.
Camille's expression melted into something breathtakingly tender.Tessa exhaled a soft, nearly invisible breath, her posture easing.Diana gave a quiet, approving nod, like I had passed some secret test only she knew about.
Claire, half-asleep, still managed to throw up a lazy peace sign without lifting her head."Love you too, dummy," she mumbled sleepily.
A ripple of laughter broke through the group, soft and warm, and I laughed too, wiping at my eyes quickly before anyone could see.
Tonight wasn't about declarations or choices or grand decisions.It was about belonging.
And for the first time since stepping into this strange, beautiful, chaotic life...I truly felt like I belonged.
With them.Always with them.
I closed my eyes again, letting the sounds of their breathing, their laughter, and the night itself lull me into sleep.
And just before darkness claimed me, I felt Lillian's lips press a soft, lingering kiss against my temple.
"Sweet dreams, Sera," she whispered.And for once—I knew they would be.
The night faded into a blur of warmth and softness.
When I woke up, it was still dark, the stars thick above us like scattered jewels across velvet. The candles had long burned low, their soft golden embers casting faint light over the sleeping forms of my friends—my family.
Claire was curled up like a cat under the blanket, her hair messy, a faint smile tugging at her lips even in sleep. Camille had somehow shifted closer, her hand resting casually near mine, her breathing slow and steady. Tessa remained nearby, sitting upright against the tree trunk, her crimson eyes half-lidded, but she hadn't fully slept—guarding us even now in the silence of the night.
Diana slept with her arm thrown casually over her eyes, as if daring the morning light to challenge her authority. Even in sleep, she exuded that unshakeable confidence that made it feel like everything would be alright, just because she was here.
And Lillian...
Lillian was still right beside me.
She hadn't moved much at all, her hand still loosely entangled with mine, her breathing even, her face serene. Her pink hair glowed faintly under the silvered moonlight, making her look almost otherworldly, as if she belonged to some dream I had accidentally stumbled into and hadn't yet been asked to leave.
I stayed like that for a while, drinking it all in—the slow, steady reminder that I was not alone. That this was real. That it wasn't going to be taken from me when I opened my eyes.
Eventually, I shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees.
The night air was cool, but not unpleasant. A soft breeze stirred the petals scattered around the courtyard, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers.
Above me, the stars spun lazily across the sky. I remembered reading once—long ago, in another life—that looking at the stars was like looking into the past, seeing light that had traveled millions of years to reach us.
Maybe that's what this was too.A light from another lifetime finally catching up to me.Finding me.
Soft footsteps pulled me from my thoughts.
I glanced over to find Camille stirring, her ice-blue eyes blinking sleepily before fixing on me. She didn't say anything, just crawled over the blanket and sat beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed.
For a while, we simply stared up at the stars together in comfortable silence.
Then Camille spoke, her voice low and easy."You looked like you were thinking too much again."
I smiled a little. "Bad habit."
She hummed in agreement. "Want me to distract you?"
I turned toward her, raising an eyebrow warily. "Depends. What's your idea of distraction?"
Camille's lips curved into a slow, mischievous smile. "This."
Before I could ask, she leaned in and pressed a light, teasing kiss against my cheek.
It was brief, barely more than a brush of lips, but it set my entire face on fire.
I froze, stunned, feeling the heat bloom from my cheek all the way down to my chest.
When I finally managed to turn my head, Camille was already pulling back with a lazy smirk. "Worked, didn't it?"
"You—!" I sputtered, half outraged, half too flustered to even complete a sentence.
Camille laughed under her breath, soft and smug, then leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the stars like nothing had happened. Like she hadn't just set my entire nervous system on fire with one casual, devastating act of affection.
"I figured," she said after a moment, her tone more serious now, "if you're going to worry about the future... you should also remember how many people are already rooting for you to be happy."
I swallowed hard, my heart thudding unsteadily in my chest.
"I know it's a lot," Camille continued, her voice low and sure, "having all of us... being the center of something so messy and complicated."
I nodded silently.
"But we chose you," she said simply. "We'll keep choosing you. No matter how messy it gets."
The truth of it settled around me like a second skin—uncomfortable in its weight, but warm in its certainty.
I turned to look at her fully, at the way the starlight caught the pale strands of her hair, at the glint of something gentle and raw in her ice-blue eyes.
"Thanks, Camille," I said quietly, from the deepest part of me.
She smiled—smaller this time, softer.
"Anytime, little star."
And just like that, the ache inside me—the fear of being alone, the fear of losing everything—eased a little more.
Because they weren't going anywhere.
Because this time, I wasn't going to let myself run.
I leaned my head lightly against Camille's shoulder, feeling her relax at the contact. We sat like that until the stars faded into the early blush of dawn.
And somewhere deep inside, where the old Sera Vandren's bitterness and Chloe's loneliness had once rooted themselves—something new was growing.
Something fragile.Something brave.
Something that, for the first time, wasn't afraid to reach toward the light.