[A Few Hours Later]
Kaelen woke to silence.
Not the restless, clawing quiet that usually followed a loss of control but something deeper and steadier.
His chest rose slowly and for a moment he lay still, afraid that if he moved, whatever fragile balance he was feeling would shatter.
Then he realized his arms were full.
Lyra was curled against him, her head tucked beneath his chin, one hand fisted weakly into the fabric of his shirt. Her breathing was soft and even, warm against his skin.
Kaelen's entire body locked.
She was alive, unharmed and the curse—the curse was quiet.
That realization hit him harder than any surge of pain ever had.
His wolf wasn't raging, it wasn't straining against invisible chains or screaming for blood and control.
It was still.
For the first time in his life, he felt a surge of peace enveloping his body. There was no madness clawing at the edges of his mind.
Only her.
Kaelen swallowed, his throat tight as his gaze traced her face.
