His expression doesn’t change, but there’s something almost smug underneath it.
“When?” Finn demands.
“Centuries ago.”
“How many centuries?”
“Several.”
“That doesn’t count!”
“It absolutely counts.”
“You haven’t kissed anyone in centuries and you think that qualifies as beach experience?”
“I’ve kissed Kaia.”
“At abeach?”
“Not yet.”
“Then it doesn’t count!”
“When we reach the southern coast,” Kieran says calmly, “I will kiss her at the beach. And then it will count.”
Finn stares at him. “Did you just… make a future plan? A fun future plan? Not a battle strategy or a protection detail — an actual date?”
“I suppose I did.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the brooding dragon?”
Kieran’s mouth curves. “Perhaps I’m learning.”
“From who? Certainly not from me. You never listen to me.”
“I listen. I simply choose to ignore you.”
“That’s worse!”
The laughter that follows is real. Warm. The kind of sound I didn’t know I needed until I heard it.
Even Kieran laughs. Small and rusty, like he’s out of practice, butthere. An actual laugh from the ancient bastard who spent centuries forgetting how.
Kaia shifts in the furs, mumbling something, and we all go quiet.
She settles. Doesn’t wake. But her lips curve a little more.
“She’s smiling,” Darian says softly.
“She can feel us through the bond,” Malrik says. “Even asleep. She knows we’re here.”
“What does she feel right now?” Finn asks. “Through the connection. What are we projecting?”
I reach for the bond. Try to identify the hum of it.
Warmth. Safety. Belonging. Something too big for a single word.
“Home,” I say quietly. “She feels home.”
