|| Lilac’s POV ||

Alaric didn’t speak as he lifted me into his arms, his grip firm yet reverent, as if I were something fragile and sacred all at once. The moment his chest pressed against mine, the dam inside me cracked. Tears I’d held back for weeks spilled over, soaking into the fabric of his torn shirt. He smelled of pine and blood and exhaustion, but beneath it all— home.

His arms tightened around me as he carried me through the silent halls, his heartbeat a steady ...