Hazel Moreau
“Ezra?”
I stood frozen in Killian's room, the dagger trembling in my hand. My mind couldn't process what my eyes were seeing. It wasn't possible. He was dead. Killian had told me with absolute certainty that he was dead.
But there he stood in the doorway, alive and breathing.
"Haze."
That one word, spoken in a voice I'd thought I'd never hear again, broke me. Only two people in my entire life had ever called me that. My father and my brother, Ezra. And my father was gone.
The dagger clattered to the floor as I threw myself at him, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. "I thought you were dead! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"
His arms wrapped around me immediately, holding me tight like they used to when we were younger and the world felt too big and scary. "I'm fine, Haze.
