Night fell before Kael returned.
Lina had stayed near the fire, wrapped in a thick blanket, heart aching with every hour that passed. The forest outside creaked and whispered, but she couldn't sleep—not without knowing he was safe.
Then… footsteps.
Heavy. Familiar.
She jumped to her feet just as the door creaked open.
Kael stood there, soaked with fog and sweat, a faint cut across his brow. But his eyes—those golden eyes—locked onto her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the world.
"You're hurt." She rushed forward, but he shook his head.
"Not badly," he murmured. "Outpost was untouched. But Ryken's people… they're moving fast. Bolder than I thought."
Lina hesitated. "Kael… if this turns into war—"
"We'll survive it," he said. "You will."
"That's not what I meant."
He looked at her then, and whatever he saw on her face made him stop in his tracks.
Lina took a breath. "You keep trying to protect me like I'm something fragile. But I'm not. I've survived too much to break now. And I… I care about you. Not because you saved me. But because when I look at you, I don't see a monster."
Kael's expression cracked—just barely. "You should."
"No," she said, stepping closer. "I see someone who's spent too long convincing himself he's unworthy of love. Someone who's held the world together by force… and never asked for anything in return."
Her hands found his—rough, warm, trembling just slightly.
"You don't have to keep pretending you're made of stone."
He looked down at their joined hands. "I don't know how to be anything else."
She smiled softly, tears brimming in her eyes. "Then let me help you remember."
A silence stretched between them, thick and unspoken, but not uncomfortable.
And then Kael—Alpha, warrior, exile—did something he hadn't done in years.
He let someone hold him.
Not just his hands.
But his grief. His fear. His guilt.
Lina didn't speak. She didn't try to fix him. She just held on.
And Kael buried his face in her shoulder and breathed—for the first time in years—like the weight on his chest had finally lifted.
"I don't deserve this," he whispered.
"You do," she whispered back. "And if you forget, I'll remind you."
The fire crackled behind them, casting long shadows on the wall. But neither moved.
Because in that moment, there was no war. No fear. No past.
Only a girl who had found her strength, and a man learning to believe he was still worthy of something more than survival.