Back to the present~
Late at night, hunger stirred them both from sleep. Seraphina whimpered softly, clinging tightly to Asher's neck like a kitten refusing to let go. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to sit up. When he didn't move fast enough, she bit his neck lightly.
He hissed under his breath, lifting her with the care of someone long used to her antics.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting up," he muttered. Seraphina always turned into a clingy little feline when hungry.
He set her on the kitchen counter. She swung her legs lazily, casting spells with half-lidded eyes. Fruit and juice floated through the air, guided by her magic. Asher joined in, their powers syncing effortlessly. Even in exhaustion, their magic danced as one.
Though tired, Asher began feeding her by hand. Sleep clung to her like morning dew, and she looked like a drowsy squirrel, rubbing her eyes. A soft smile tugged at his lips. He pulled her cheek gently.
Why is she this cute? That was all he could think.
After cleaning the kitchen with a quick snap of his fingers, he turned—only to find her jumping on his back. He caught her with ease, carrying her piggyback to the balcony.
There, he set her on the curved shell of the railing. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his head on her shoulder.
Their breath mingled in the cool night air.
"Peace."
Was that what this was?
For the first time in a long while, Seraphina's heart felt calm.
A quiet moment.
Warmth.
Peace.
So this... this is what it feels like—to belong?
Time passed too quickly.
She never left Asher's side after that.
He didn't have a personal chamber; he lived in a spare villa attached to his tower, nestled close to the magical flow of Seraphina's soul forest. From his balcony, you could see his moonlit garden, lovingly tended by his own hands. Just beyond it, hidden by enchantments, was a secret gateway to Seraphina's soul forest.
Their homes were not ordinary dwellings—they were living magic. Portable, hidden, bound to their spirits. Because of the soul bond, they now shared access to each other. His garden belonged to her. Her forest belonged to him.
During their soul's adjustment, they fell into a two-week magical slumber—seven days cradled by her, seven days held by him.
The morning of the fifteenth day~
They spent the whole morning wrapped in each other's arms. Their magic worked silently, healing ancient spirits now confined to youthful bodies, easing the side effects of their return to the past with full consciousness.
Later, Asher carried her to his garden. First through the protective apple trees, then into the rose garden blooming at its heart, and finally across a lavender field that seemed to hum with magic. At the center stood a mighty oak tree. From one of its broad branches hung a swing, bridging his world to hers.
They sat there together. Seraphina curled up in his arms like a sleepy rabbit. The swing rocked gently with her breathing, in a rhythm that lulled the world around them into stillness.
Asher looked up at the sky. Time moved again.
His old soul was settling. He had brought her back—defied fate itself.
This time, she would live.
For herself.
For him.
The sun dipped into the red. Peace fell over the world like a soft blanket.
He looked down—Seraphina was still asleep in his arms. With a long breath, he stood and began carrying her back toward their room.
Halfway there, a large green eagle swooped into the hall, circling them with an unmistakable presence.
Asher halted. The eagle glared. He glared back.
Seraphina stirred and looked up, meeting the bird's eyes. Her sigh said everything.
Her father's magical familiar.
Of course.
She slipped down from Asher's arms, brushing her dress. That bird wouldn't stop circling or chirping unless she obeyed. Her father's dislike of Asher was well-known, even to the bird. But it wasn't just Asher. Any man near her got the same treatment.
Childhood sweetheart or not, her father had always been "reluctantly tolerant" of Asher. The only reason he tolerated him at all was because Seraphina's mother had arranged the soulbond. Even then, he considered Asher nothing more than a smooth-talking thief who had stolen his daughter's heart.
The eagle dropped a letter into Seraphina's hands. It clicked open magically.
Letter:
"Come, Nightshade, to the main mansion. Your father is not a beggar. If you refuse to stay in your estate, I can buy a new one for you. Don't get swayed by any purple fox. It's been too many days. I have yet to send you to him as a bride. You are not an adult yet.
DO NOT ignore me. Ride the bird and return.
I warn you—do not test me. I will BURN that stinky purple wildflower of yours."
Seraphina stood there, caught between a laugh and a facepalm.
Asher's face darkened.
His lips pressed into a thin, murderous line.
Stinky?
Wildflower?!
How many insults could one man cram into a single letter?
He shot her a look of disbelief. She was trying not to laugh.
"Laugh. Go on," he snapped, "you're my woman, and you still can't stand up for me. Hmph."
Seraphina burst into laughter, holding her belly. "Baby, it's not that I don't want to. But do you think it helps?" She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. "Remember when we were five? I defended you once, and he hung you upside down from a tree!"
She kept laughing.
Asher shivered at the memory. His face flushed red from a mix of rage and embarrassment.
"I swear," he muttered, "this man thinks I'm a thief? Hmph. I'll marry you right in front of him, with fireworks and trumpets, and show off."
Seraphina just shook her head, smiling softly.
Her eyes softened.
Her father was still alive.
Her soulmate was happy.
Two people she loved… were still here.
She wouldn't die this time.
She would live for both of them.