Kieran is sitting up in bed.
He looks pale, his olive skin lacking its usual sun-kissed warmth, and his dark hair is longer, falling into his eyes. But his amber eyes are clear, lucid, and filled with a profound, quiet depth. He has been to the bottom of the world, and he has brought some of the dark back with him, but he is here. He is whole.
Kade is sitting in a chair beside the bed, his large hand resting on Kieran’s knee. Asher is sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, a sketchbook in his lap, drawing quietly.
"Hey, brother," Kade says, his voice rough with emotion.
Kieran smiles, a weak, trembling thing. "Hey, Alpha. Hey, Luna." His voice is a raspy whisper, like dry leaves scraping across stone. "Did we win?"
"We won," I say, walking to the bedside and gently taking his ha
