Page 49 of Dance in the Stones

“We’re thinking about it very seriously, yes. There’s interest from local packs.”

JC straightened. “Okay, then I’m glad you called me. You’re going to need modern security systems, a heap more magical wards, and a secure intake process. This isn’t the sixteenth century. You can’t just hide people in towers anymore, not without other people noticing.”

“But we could make it work?” Redford asked.

“With the right team?” JC smiled slowly. “Absolutely, and I’ll help where I can. This kind of historical preservation combined with an active use case - that’s my version of a Friday night treat.”

Dinner that evening was chaos in the best way. Five adults - six people counting Warner - crowded around the kitchen table that Damon had expanded with a thought. They ate pasta and garlic bread, passed Warner between them when he fussed, argued about the best approach to tower restoration, and laughed at Kolton’s stories about their deer shifter neighbors.

Sitting between Damon and Simon, with Warner dozing in his arms and Damon’s contentment at seeing two of his brothers again seeping through their bond, Redford thought back to the nights he spent working alone at his desk. At the cases he took because he didn’t have a life, or more accurately, how totally empty that life had been.

This is what’s important, he realized. Family, friends…little ones. Oh, yes, Redford was getting ideas, but he really didn’t think Damon would mind.

His phone buzzed during dessert. It was Malcolm, checking in.

Malcolm: Coming back in two weeks. Doctor cleared me for light work. Want me and the crew to prioritize any specific areas?

Redford showed the message to Damon, who leaned close to read.

“The west wing,” Damon murmured. “We need to make that habitable. We’ll handle the east tower ourselves.”

Redford typed quickly. Focus on making the west wing livable - roof, windows, and basic utilities. We’ll tackle the east tower separately.

Malcolm: Sounds good. See you in two weeks.

“So we’re really doing this,” Simon said, watching them. “Restoring the sanctuary.”

“We’re really doing this,” Redford confirmed.

Warner yawned against Redford’s shoulder, and Simon smiled.

“Welcome to the family,” Simon said quietly.

Redford hummed, and Warner settled deeper into sleep.

Chapter Seventeen

“The grout work looks really good.”

Damon stood in the west wing’s main hall, admiring Malcolm’s crew’s handiwork. Two weeks had passed since their visitors had left, and the transformation was startling. Apparently, when it came to building, clearing out the old stones and mess, and then laying in the prep work took the longest time.

But when the building work actually started, Damon had seen improvements every single day. Fresh mortar sealed the stones, and new timber beams reinforced the equally new ceiling, and there was even glass in actual window frames, letting in the afternoon sun and warming the repaired flagstone floors.

Malcolm grinned, his cast propped on a stool. “Another two weeks for the finishing touches - baseboards, final paint, and plumbing fixtures - then you’ll have a proper livable space.”

“You’ve done amazing work.” Redford joined them, brushing stone dust from his shirt. He’d spent the morning strengthening the wing’s foundations, work invisible to the human crew but vital for long-term stability.

“Aye, well.” Malcolm nodded. “It helps when the owners are this invested. I’ve never seen two people more committed to a restoration.”

Damon could feel Redford’s quiet satisfaction. His mate had changed over the past weeks - the perpetual tension in his shoulders had eased, the dark circles under his eyes fading. Wilson still called occasionally, but Redford would just say something along the lines of “you’re doing great, Wilson, you’ve got this. I have absolute faith in you,” before hanging up and ignoring any follow-up calls.

He’d even mentioned submitting his resignation letter in the next month or so, although that might have been the sex talking. Horny Redford would agree to damn near anything to stay in bed with Damon.

“We’ll let you finish up,” Damon said, pushing the sexy thoughts out of his mind. “We’ll be working on the east tower again for another few hours.”

“Just be careful.” Malcolm adjusted his crutches. “That structure’s still dodgy, and I don’t want to come up in the morning and find you guys buried under a pile of stone. My missus would have my hide if I tried lifting them off you.”

“That’s why you have a crew to do the lifting for you,” Damon chuckled.