Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 86: Chapter 86

Anderson Estate – Early Afternoon
The gravel crunch of solar-bike tires echoed down the long drive, framed by ancient oaks and trailing ivy. The manor stood beyond, half-hidden by the late-summer haze — timeless, ivy-draped, with flower petals drifting from unseen branches.
Leo slowed to a stop behind Derek and dismounted with quiet tension. His satchel pulsed faintly with petallight. He adjusted it like a shield.
Derek clapped him on the shoulder. “You good?”
Leo’s eyes swept the windows. “Too many shadows watching.”
“No one’s watching — they’re just waiting. They’re curious.”
“Feels the same.”
Derek grinned. “You want to wait out here and sneak in later, or walk in like someone with a family?”
Leo hesitated.
Then: “I’ll walk.”
—
The Foyer
The front door creaked open.
Christian appeared first — white coat open, sleeves rolled to the elbows, hair wind-swept, a pen tucked behind one ear. He looked up, immediately recognizing Derek — and then pausing at the lean, barefoot figure behind him.
“Christian,” Derek said with a smile, “meet Leo.”
Leo fidgeted with the strap of his satchel, glancing around the high ceilings and antique lanterns. He nodded politely.
Christian stepped forward and extended a hand. “Good to meet you. You’re taller than I expected. And… not a lion. So that’s something.”
Leo blinked. “I could be. But I didn’t want to eat your doormat.”
Christian chuckled, shaking his hand. “I like this one.”
From deeper in the house, Eliot called out, “Did someone say lion?”
He appeared a moment later, bare feet, cargo pants, and a tablet tucked under one arm. He paused, taking in Leo, his golden eyes, and his twitching fingers — which curled subtly like claws.
“Eliot,” Derek said. “This is Leo. He’s the one I’ve been writing about.”
Leo nodded. “You smell like wires.”
Eliot blinked. “You smell like someone who hasn’t worn socks in five years.”
A long pause.
Then they both grinned.
“We’re going to get along,” Eliot said, holding out a fist.
Leo stared at it. “What’s this?”
“A peace ritual,” Eliot said solemnly.
Leo bumped it, softly. “Accepted.”
—
The Bloom Room Entrance
Markus stood near the staircase, arms folded but eyes soft. He studied Leo like someone observing an unfinished map — curious, respectful.
“So,” he said. “You’re the lion.”
Leo nodded slowly. “And you’re the wolf.”
Markus raised a brow. “That’s new.”
“You walk like a predator trying not to wake the grass,” Leo said quietly. “I can smell your restraint.”
Markus smiled faintly. “And I can hear your heartbeat. Fast. You’re nervous.”
“I don’t like thresholds,” Leo admitted. “Too many smells. Too many possibilities.”
Markus stepped aside. “Then come inside and change the smell of the place.”
Leo blinked. “I think I like you.”
“Most don’t at first.”
“That’s comforting.”
—
The Bloom Room
The underground door opened with a whisper of roots parting, and the forest beneath the house greeted them.
Dahlia stood in the middle, hands coated in golden pollen, sleeves rolled, wild curls pinned messily with a twig and a leaf. She turned as they entered, and her expression immediately softened.
“Hello, lion boy,” she said warmly.
Leo froze in the doorway, breath held.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Derek’s letters,” she added, stepping forward. “You’re taller than I pictured. You also twitch your tail when you’re anxious.”
“I don’t have a tail,” he mumbled, though his left foot scraped backward instinctively like a flick.
She smiled. “How’s the satchel doing? Still holding charge?”
He nodded quickly, clutching it protectively. “It… helps. A lot. I don’t have to fight the shift anymore. It’s just there. Like a second heart.”
Dahlia reached out but didn’t touch. “May I?”
Leo hesitated… then opened the flap gently. Inside, the petals shimmered gold and silver, pulsing faintly in rhythm with his breath.
“Beautiful,” Dahlia whispered.
“They grow warmer when I’m afraid,” Leo said softly. “Or lonely.”
“They’re responding to you. You’ve bonded with them.”
Leo looked up, eyes wide. “They remember me.”
Dahlia nodded. “They’re not just medicine. They’re memory made visible.”
He blinked quickly. “Thank you.”
Dahlia gave a small smile. “Thank you for keeping my brother alive. I see him differently now. Lighter. That’s you.”
Leo ducked his head. “I just made him laugh. And didn’t eat him.”
“That’s more than enough.”
—
Later – The Garden Porch
They sat together under the wooden beams, the garden aglow with quiet flowers and drifting petals. Leo curled his feet under him in his usual crouch, hands around a mug of honeyed tea.
“So… where do I sleep?” he asked cautiously.
Christian pointed. “We have guest rooms. Four walls. Beds. Linen sheets. No fur required.”
“I sleep curled,” Leo said.
“Got it. We’ll roll up a hammock in the greenhouse,” Eliot offered. “Derek used to sleep in a closet his first year, remember?”
Derek raised a brow. “That was because I was being dramatic.”
Leo smirked. “I like closets.”
“See?” Eliot grinned. “We’ve come full circle.”
—
Final Scene – That Night
Dahlia returned to the bloom room alone. She passed a small corner where Leo had curled up earlier — already half-asleep, purring softly under a leafy woven blanket Orchid had left.
Markus leaned beside her. “He’ll fit in.”
“He already does,” Dahlia whispered.
From the corner, Leo stirred and mumbled, “I can hear you…”
They both laughed quietly.
And above them, the petals pulsed — not just with power, but with welcome.