Chapter 17
“No matter how dark it gets, no matter how far we’re scattered, I’ll always find my way back to you. You’re my home, Fane. You and Slate—always.” ~Jacque
The room was quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped itself around Fane like a balm to his frayed nerves. The faint glow of moonlight spilled through the window, casting soft, silver light over the simple but elegant furnishings of their room in Peri’s home. The faint scent of lavender hung in the air and mingled with the earthy undertone of Faerie itself—a scent that always smelled like a mix of rain-soaked moss and wildflowers.
Slate’s soft, even breathing came from the crib near the bed. The sound should have soothed Fane but didn’t quite reach the storm inside him. His son was safe. His mate was safe. And yet the weight
