For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. His chest rose and fell too quickly, his eyes searching mine like he wasn’t sure I was even real. Then, before I could even speak, he stepped inside the tent and shut the canvas behind him.
And suddenly I was in his arms again.
The world fell away — the fear, the walls, the endless noise of the war camp. All I could feel was him, the warmth of him, the way his hands trembled against my back as if he’d been holding himself still for too long.
“Veyra,” he breathed, his voice breaking.
“Gods, Veyra, I’m so sorry.”
I tried to answer, but my throat locked. The tears came faster than words. I pressed my face into his shoulder, shaking, the scent of him — smoke, steel, something wild — pulling every buried feeling back to life. He pulled back just enoug
