But Ming had died twenty years ago, leaving Jian-Li broken in a way no one could fix, the second time she’d had to experience that, the first being with Abel and living day to day knowing she’d never have him, until she met Ming.

It was the measure of the man, and of his wife, that their three sons stood by her side, strong and stalwart, living their lives but keeping the family together to make certain their mother never endured another painful break that wouldn’t heal.

“I’m glad you have that now,” she went on.

Abel captured her eyes and whispered, “You know I’ve always loved you. From the moment you were placed in my arms, tian xin, I’ve loved you. And you know, no matter how long I have on this earth, that will never die.”

Her smile was sad when she replied, “I know. As you loved and mourned my mother. And my grandmother. I know, Abel.”

It had to be said, sometimes immortality sucked. In fact, immortality pretty much always sucked. It was just that some times were worse than others.

This was one of those times.

“I need to go help the boys,” he told her in order to move them both out of the sadness.

She nodded again. “My phone is on the desk.”

He went that way, snagged it, and shoved it in his back pocket.

Then he walked to her, bent low, and slid his temple along hers. “Go to bed,” he said in her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He pulled away but not far, just enough to catch her gaze as she said, “I will. Be safe. Take care of my sons.”

“Always.”

She gave him another soft smile.

He lifted a finger and touched it to her chin. Her eyes went tender but forlorn. They always did these days when he touched her that way. When she was younger, a toddler, a little girl, a teen, they lit with pleasure.

But now, knowing she was lost to him, had always been lost to him, then Ming was lost to her, and now that Abel was finally found, the melancholy was difficult to behold.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. That was hers, but more, he knew from experience it made it worse to try and take it away.

“Rest well, tian xin,” he murmured.

“I will.”

He smiled into her eyes, straightened, and moved away.

He was at his bike in the alley when Xun and Wei rode in.

They stopped close to him and he saw they had no wolf.

When their engines died, Xun announced, “We lost him. We need you to track.”

He swung astride his bike as he replied, “Let’s go.”

They started up their bikes again as Abel did the same and they took off, Abel leading.