Lyra didn't remember moving. One moment Kaelan's forehead was pressed to hers, both of them breathing hard from everything spilled between them every confession, every fear, every wound. The next moment she was in his arms.
Lifted. Gathered. Held as if she weighed nothing.
Kaelan didn't speak when he scooped her up. His expression was a stor soft at the edges only for her, but violent underneath with everything he felt and refused to say out loud. His hold was secure, one arm beneath her legs, the other around her waist, drawing her tightly against his chest.
Lyra's breath hitched. "Kael…" Her fingers instinctively curled into the front of his shirt, clutching fabric the way a drowning person clings to the surface.
His voice dropped to a low rumble against her ear . "Don't let go." He wasn't asking.He was pleading and Lyra didn't want to. Not now. Maybe not ever.
