*Saoirse*
I clung to Rhys, my arms locked fiercely around his neck as if releasing him would somehow snatch him away again. His scent, that earthy blend of pine and wild freedom, filled my senses, chasing away the lingering dread that had haunted me from the moment he left for battle.
Tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked—warm, salty trails that spoke of fear, relief, and a love so deep it defied the vastness of our world.
"Rhys," I whispered, my voice quaking with emotion. "You're really here."
"I am, Saoirse." Rhys' voice was a soft rumble against my ear, strained with weariness but thick with feeling. "I'm here."
His arms tightened around me. He held on tightly as if he too was worried that letting me go would mean losing me.
"Can we… can we see them?" Rhys broke the silence, the simple question laced with a longing that pierced through me.
