I’m so sorry I worried you. I reach out, taking her free hand between mine and squeezing gently. This is because of what we spoke about the other night. It’s my fault.

“You were just telling me the truth,” she says, her mouth turning into a frown. “I don’t regret what happened—not for a single moment—but I just… I care for you all so much. I want us to have more time together…”

And we will have it, I promise. Whatever it is you want, you will have.

“We’ll figure it out,” Fenryr adds, his dark green eyes swimming with a tender emotion as he stares down at his mate. “Together. You can’t get rid of us now, little one.”

“Good,” she whispers, a hint of a smile replacing her anxious expression. “I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”

“You say that now,” Cyprien growls, his fingertips tightening around her thigh. “Wait until you’re so sore and used that you’re begging us for a break.”

Lir smacks Cyprien upside the head with a glare. “Are you trying to scare her away? Let her rest, you maniac.”

A chuckle shakes Dagny’s chest as Cyprien lays his head on her pelvis, nuzzling his face against her bare skin with a low-toned whine echoing from his throat. “Fine. I’ll be patient.”

Lir lies back down with a tired sigh, keeping one hand on Dagny’s shoulder as he snuggles deeper into the furs. The rest of us follow suit, forming a protective circle around our mate while ensuring each of us has equal access to her.

Her pretty pink lips stretch with a yawn, and she curls up in the center of the pile, her eyes hooded and muscles quivering slightly from earlier. I stay awake for a time, watching her sleep before succumbing to the dark.

I close my eyes and fall happily into the void, knowing that when I wake, my mate will still be here, still wrapped in my arms. Still mine.

And a seed of hope blooms in my heart for the first time in my life.

29. Dagny

29

Dagny

1 week later…

The ice beneath the welwigs is thinner than the rest of the ground, and with each careful step, the ground crackles ominously, threatening to shatter beneath my weight and send me tumbling to the void below—but I don’t let that deter me. I have something to prove.

I dig my fingertips into the ice at the base of the trunk, surprised to find how easily it parts beneath my prying touch. Closing my eyes, I push my fingers deeper into the crust, searching by touch alone for the carrot-shaped tuber that grows here, trying desperately not to think about the ground shuddering underfoot, or what would happen if it truly gave way.