“With honey?”
“With honey.”
Dani’s grin widened. “And berries?”
“If there are any left.” She couldn’t help but smile back. This was the Dani she remembered—bright and cheerful and endlessly demanding. The Dani who had been buried under layers of illness and exhaustion for so long that she had almost forgotten what she was like when she was well.
She built up the fire in the main room and set water to boil, humming softly as she worked. The den felt different this morning—lighter, somehow, as if the shadows that had gathered in the corners had been swept away by the dawn.
Home,she thought, and the word didn’t feel strange anymore.
She was stirring honey into the oatmeal when Dani padded out of her room, wrapped in one of the fur blankets like a small, disheveled queen. Her feet were bare, her hair still a disaster, and she was possibly the most beautiful thing Jessa had ever seen.
“Tarek’s still asleep,” Dani observed, settling herself at the table with the air of someone who expected to be waited on.
“He worked very hard to make you better.” She set a bowl of oatmeal in front of her sister, along with a small dish of the late-season berries she’d found tucked away in the cold storage. “He didn’t sleep for two days.”
Dani’s eyes went wide. “Two whole days?”
“Two whole days.”
“Wow.” The spoon paused halfway to her mouth. “He must really love us, huh?”
The casual observation made her freeze momentarily before she busied herself with pouring tea, hiding the sudden flush that crept up her cheeks.
“I think he does,” she said quietly. “Yes.”
“Good.” Dani resumed eating with the single-minded focus of the truly famished. “I love him too. He’s going to be my brother, right? When you get married?”
“We haven’t?—”
“‘S okay.” Dani spoke around a mouthful of oatmeal, apparently unconcerned with manners. “I told him he should.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the words died in her throat as a shadow fell across the table. She looked up to find Tarek standing in the doorway, his hair sleep-mussed, his eyes still heavy with exhaustion but glowing faintly in the morning dimness.
“What’s about time?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
“You asking Jessa to marry you,” Dani said at exactly the same moment.
His gaze met hers across the room, and then his mouth curved into the closest thing to a carefree smile she’d ever seen from him.
“Ah. That.”
“You didn’t ask yet?” Dani’s spoon clattered against her bowl. “But you said?—”
“Perhaps I was waiting for the right moment.” He crossed to the table, dropping into a crouch beside Dani’s chair so that their eyes were level. “There’s something we need to talk about first. About the medicine.”
Dani’s face fell. “Did it not work? Am I still sick?”
“It worked.” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture achingly gentle. “You’re not sick anymore. But I need you to understand—this wasn’t a cure. Not entirely. The medicine treats the symptoms and helps your body fight the illness. But to make sure it never comes back, you’ll need to take it regularly. At least for a while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know yet. Months, probably. Maybe longer.” His hand dropped to cover hers where it rested on the table. “But I’ll make more. As much as you need, for as long as you need it. I promise.”
“Forever?”
