Chapter 65 Let's Go Home
The extra forty-eight hours in the Grove had been a gift from the earth itself. The ancient, vibrating silence of the silver-barked trees had acted like a battery charger for Leela’s depleted core. By the morning of their departure, the terrifying, translucent pallor of the coma had vanished. A healthy, rosy flush had returned to her cheeks, and the Elemental Stone in her chest was no longer a frantic, pulsing bird, but a steady, rhythmic star.
She was back. But she was not yet whole. Her spirit was willing, but her muscles were still trembling from the weeks of atrophy.
The Alpha’s Burden
When it was time to load up the mountain climber, Leela swung her legs over the side of the hammock, bracing her hands on the mossy rim to push herself up.
"I can walk, Fenn," she said, her voice raspy but laced with her trademark stubbornness. "My legs work. I’m not glass."
Fennigan didn't even pause. He simply stepped into her space, scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing more than a snowflake, and held her tight against his chest.
Leela laughed quietly, a sound that vibrated against his collarbone. "You’re ridiculous, you know that?"
"Not as long as I'm around," Fennigan grumbled, stepping over a frozen root with practiced ease. "I will carry you every day, everywhere, if I have to. I don't want anything to ever happen to you again. If my feet are on the ground, yours don't have to be." He nuzzled her neck. "I'm not losing you."
He carried her to the idling mountain climber, the engine purring and blowing white exhaust into the crisp air. He didn't put her straight inside, though. He set her down gently on the metal step of the vehicle, his hands lingering on her waist to steady her, his body blocking the wind.
He looked at her—really looked at her—tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb. The fear of the last two weeks, the terror of the fog, and the weight of the empty bed still haunted his eyes.
"I am nothing without you, Leela," he whispered, his voice rough with honesty. "I watched you fade, and I felt myself fading right along with you. If I can make it easy for you... if I can carry you anywhere, bring you anything... I will. I’m not the Alpha without my Mate."
Leela felt the sting of tears, but she blinked them back. She was tired, her body feeling heavy and slow, but her heart was soaring. She wrapped her thin arms around his neck, pulling him down until their foreheads rested together.
"I'm nothing without you either," she murmured against his lips. "You were the heartbeat in the dark, Fenn. You brought me home."
She closed the distance, kissing him with a slow, tender desperation that spoke of second chances and promises kept.
The Interruption
"Hey! Whoa there!"
Jax’s voice shattered the moment like a dropped plate.
The couple broke apart, breathless, to find Jax standing just a few feet away. He was grinning, but his eyes were dancing with amusement as he adjusted his grip on the large woven basket he was holding. Inside, Caspian and Briar were wide awake, bundled in furs, staring up at the sky.
"No making more right now," Jax quipped, nodding at the basket in his arms. "You just had these two. My hands are full enough as the favorite uncle; I don't need you adding to the litter before we even get off the mountain."
Fennigan threw his head back and laughed—a genuine, loud sound that echoed through the trees. The tension of the last fortnight finally evaporated completely.
"Fair point, brother," Fennigan chuckled. He turned back to Tara, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "All right. Let's get you in. The twins are waiting."
He helped her up the steps and into the warm, padded cabin of the climber, settling her into the seat and buckling her in with the care of a man handling a rare jewel. As he climbed in after her and signaled Jax to load the babies, Fennigan looked out at the Grove one last time.
They had come up the mountain broken. They were going down as a family.