Caspian knelt before Julia, his heart heavy with emotions he couldn’t even name. She sat weakly in her wheelchair, her once pale face now showing a faint flush of life.

He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, as if afraid that letting go might somehow make her vanish.

The warmth of her body against his sent a wave of relief crashing through him. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent, grounding himself in the reality that she was alive. She had survived.

“You’re here,” Caspian whispered, his voice trembling, a rare crack in his usual composed demeanor.

His fingers brushed over the blanket covering her legs, as if...