She blinks, surprised, then smiles. “Starving, actually.”
“Come on.” I gesture toward the alcove at the far end of the room—quieter, but still part of the celebration.
As we settle into the alcove, she takes her first bite and closes her eyes briefly. “I didn’t realize how hungry I actually was.”
“Kari said you’ve been checking on everyone all evening. Haven’t stopped.”
“Someone has to make sure no one’s pushing too hard too soon.” She takes another bite, then adds wryly, “Classic healer move—taking care of everyone but myself.”
I lean back against the cushions. “Which is why someone needs to keep an eye on you.”
She sits closer than necessary, our shoulders nearly touching. “And you volunteered?”
“Seemed like the job wasn’t filled.” I pause, studying her. “How are you feeling? And I don’t mean as our healer. I mean you, Lyanna.”
Something softens in her expression. “You kept asking me that during the crisis. Every time you brought food or filled mywater bottle.” She shakes her head slightly. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you.”
“You were busy saving the pack. Answer the question.”
“Exhausted,” she admits, the word carrying the weight of the past week. “But ... relieved. Proud of what we accomplished.” She takes a bite of food and closes her eyes briefly in appreciation.
A faint blush colors her cheeks. “Where did you do your healing training?” I ask, finding myself genuinely curious about her past beyond just her healing abilities.
“Prince Lachlan’s enclave at Tir na Sorcha,” she says, her expression warming at the memory. “I mean, Lachlan. It’s hard for me tonotcall him ‘Prince’ given our backgrounds. He created a progressive space for cross-species healing studies. It’s where I learned to break through traditional boundaries in fae healing techniques.”
“That explains your unorthodox approach,” I say, leaning slightly closer. “Most healers I’ve known would never have risked dampening pack bonds.”
“Most healers haven’t had to fight magical contamination designed to feed on those bonds.” She takes another bite, then asks, “What about you? How did you end up as Dane and Nova’s Gamma?”
I find myself telling her about Shadow Peak—things I don’t talk about. Ever.
“My mother died when I was fourteen,” I say, and the words scrape coming out. “Sudden. No warning. One day she was there, and then she wasn’t.”
Lyanna’s hand finds mine on the table. She doesn’t speak, just waits.
“I had four younger siblings. Isla, Mira, the twins—Jace and Leo.” I stare at our joined hands rather than meet her eyes. “My father... he handled it by disappearing into duty. TraditionalGuardian protocols, border patrols, anything that kept him away from the house. So I stepped in. Made sure they ate. Got them to training. Held Mira when she had nightmares.”
“You were a child yourself,” Lyanna says softly.
“I was old enough to feel responsible.” I finally look up. “And I couldn’t save her. My mother. I was supposed to have angel blood, Guardian heritage, all this divine protection in my veins—and I couldn’t do a damn thing when it mattered.”
The old anger stirs, familiar and bitter. “My father expected me to follow the traditional path. Protect the boundaries, know everyone’s place, keep the hierarchy intact. And for years, I thought that’s what protection meant—controlling every variable, making choices for people before they could make the wrong ones.”
“Because if you controlled everything...”
“No one else would die.” I exhale slowly. “Didn’t work out that way.”
Lyanna’s silent, listening.
“My sister, Isla,” I say, the words coming easier now that I’ve started, “she bonded with Rowan. Dane’s younger brother—both of them from Storm Ridge, both former assassins under Viktor and Maelik.” I pause, remembering the fury, the terror. “An outsider who’d done things I couldn’t even imagine. I didn’t trust him, didn’t trust what he represented.”
Lyanna’s silent, listening.
“I started a fight with him in the middle of a pack gathering. Not my finest moment.” My jaw tightens. “Looking back, I realize he could have killed me easily. Former assassin trained and … enhanced by Viktor himself. But he pulled every punch, took every hit, because of Isla.” I pause. “That should have told me everything I needed to know about his character. Instead, I just kept swinging.”
The memory tastes bitter. “I thought I was protecting her. But really, I was trying to control her life because I was terrified of losing someone else I loved.”
I lean back against the wall. “Rowan’s ... he’s good for her. I can see that now. He makes her happy in ways I never could have predicted. But back then, all I saw was an assassin who’d killed for Viktor trying to claim my sister.”
