Jessa’s hand found his again as the others filed out, her touch a lifeline in the sudden surge of emotion. She didn’t say anything, just held on.
Korrin paused at the entrance, Tessa already outside. “We’ll head north in a few days,” he said, his usual arrogance softened into something almost gentle. “Once I’ve had time to plan the route. If you think of anything else about this exile—where he might have gone, what he was running from—send word.”
“I will.”
A flash of sharp teeth. “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”
“I’ll manage somehow.”
Korrin’s laugh echoed off the stone walls as he ducked outside, leaving Tarek and Jessa alone in the suddenly quiet den. But the silence wasn’t empty. It was full of warmth and possibility.
Jessa turned to face him, her eyes bright in the dying firelight. “That was…”
“A lot,” he finished.
“Good, though.” She stepped closer, her hands coming up to rest against his chest. His heartbeat accelerated beneath her palms, her smile widening as she noticed it too. “Very good.”
“Yes.” He covered her hands with his own, holding them against him. “It was.”
They stood like that for a long moment, neither moving, neither speaking. Outside, the night was dark and cold, but here in their home there was only warmth.
His days as an exile were truly over. For five years, he had defined himself by what he’d lost. He’d worn his isolation like armor, convinced that he deserved nothing more, that his solitude was both his punishment and his protection.
But armor could become a prison if you let it.
Jessa and Dani had shown him that. Jessa, with her fierce determination and her gentle heart, and Dani, with her bright curiosity and her quiet courage. And now Seren and Korrin and the others had offered him pack.
He wasn’t alone anymore.
He would never be alone again.
“Come to bed,” she murmured, rising on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s been a long day.”
He let her lead him towards their bedroom, her hand warm in his.
Behind them, the fire crackled and settled, casting soft shadows across the den that had once been a place of solitary exile and had become a home.
EPILOGUE
One month later…
The blue gownlay draped across the bed, its fabric catching the late afternoon light that streamed through the window.
Jessa stood before her wardrobe in nothing but her shift, fingers trailing over the options she’d accumulated since moving between the den and the cottage. There was the practical brown wool for daily wear, the green linen for market days, and the deep rose dress Tarek had surprised her with last week—purchased from a traveling merchant with a gruff dismissal of her protests about the cost.
Too fine for what I have planned, she thought, her cheeks warming at the direction of her own thoughts.
She reached for the blue gown instead. Simple cotton, soft from many washings, with a clever design that allowed the skirts to be gathered and tied at the hips when walking through rough terrain. Or when one needed to move quickly.
The fabric whispered softly against her skin as she pulled it over her head. She smoothed the bodice, checked that the side ties were secure but easily loosened, and slipped her feet into flat leather slippers that would grip the forest floor.
Her hair was the final consideration. She’d been wearing it down more often lately because Tarek had confessed that he loved watching the way it caught the light, but today she twisted it back into a simple knot at the nape of her neck. Practical. Sensible.
Nothing about what you’re planning is sensible,a voice whispered in her mind.
She grinned at her reflection in the small mirror propped on the dresser. No, it wasn’t sensible at all. But after everything they’d been through, she thought they’d both earned a little madness.
The door creaked behind her and she turned to find Tarek filling the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame on either side. His green eyes swept the room with the automatic alertness that never quite left him, even here in the safety of their home.
