Lucien did not move at first. He stayed there, half-collapsed over Devon, breathing him in as though the scent alone could anchor him back to sanity.
Devon lay stiff beneath him, unsure whether to push him away or freeze in place. His heart hammered against his ribs loud enough that Lucien's sharpened senses heard every uneven thump.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
But then Lucien's body trembled.
Devon felt it, subtle, almost invisible at first. The great Alpha of Ravenmoon, the cold, composed leader feared throughout the empire… was shaking.
Devon swallowed, voice barely a whisper. "Lucien…?"
Lucien lifted his head slowly. The illusion still cloaked his face in shadow, but Devon could see the outline of grief carved into him, grief so deep it warped the air around them.
When he spoke, his voice was raw.
"You don't understand," he murmured, fingers tightening unconsciously around Devon's wrists. "When you disappeared… when they told me you were dead…"
