Luna. Chapter 205

(Lyra's POV)

Our bedroom looked exactly the same, except for one major addition: a beautiful wooden crib positioned near the window.

"You got a crib," I said softly.

"I was hopeful," Kael said. "Maybe stupidly hopeful, but I couldn't help myself."

I walked over and ran my hand along the smooth wood. "It's beautiful. Where did you get it?"

"I made it. During the nights when I couldn't sleep because I missed you too much."

"You made this?"

"It gave me something to do with my hands. Something productive instead of just going crazy thinking about you."

The craftsmanship was incredible. Detailed carvings along the rails, smooth joints that spoke of hours of careful work.

"There's a matching changing table in the closet," he said. "And a rocking chair, though I see you prefer the one in your old room."

"Kael." I turned to face him. "This is the most beautiful thing anyone's ever made for me."

"For Nova. I made it for Nova."

"For Nova, but thinking of me."

"Always thinking of you."

The intensity in his voice made my heart race. Being in this room, surrounded by memories of our life together, looking at the crib he'd built while dreaming of our daughter coming home.

"I missed you," I whispered.

"I missed you so much I thought it might kill me."

"But we're here now."

"We're here now."

Kael stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "Lyra, I need you to know something."

"What?"

"Every night since you left, I slept on the couch. I couldn't bear being in this bed without you."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did. This bed belongs to both of us. It didn't feel right using it alone."

I looked at the king-sized bed we'd shared as newlyweds. The same blue comforter, the same pillows arranged the way I used to like them.

"Have you been lonely?" I asked.

"Devastatingly lonely."

"So have I."

"Even with Magnus? Even surrounded by his pack?"

"Magnus has been wonderful to me. But he's not you. He's not the father of my children. He's not the man I fell in love with when I was eighteen."

Kael reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I don't deserve you."

"Stop saying that. We've both made mistakes. We've both been hurt. But we're here now, and we're trying."

"Are we trying?"

"Aren't we?"

Instead of answering, Kael kissed me. Softly at first, tentatively, like he was afraid I might pull away.

I didn't pull away.

I kissed him back, pouring months of longing and pain and love into the connection between us. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer, and I melted into him like I'd been freezing and he was the first warm thing I'd touched in months.

"I need you," he whispered against my lips.

"I need you too."

"I mean I need you. Right now. I know it's selfish and I know you might not be ready, but I need to feel close to you again."

I was already working on the buttons of his shirt. "Does this room have a lock?"

"Yes."

"Then lock it."

While Kael secured the door, I looked at myself in the mirror. My body had changed since having Nova. I was softer in places, marked by stretch marks that told the story of carrying his daughter.

"Second thoughts?" Kael asked, returning to my side.

"Just thinking about how different I look now."

"You look perfect."

"I look like a woman who's had two babies."

"You look like the strongest, most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

His hands were gentle as he helped me out of my sweater, reverent as they traced the changes in my body.

"These are from carrying Nova," I said, touching the faint silver lines on my belly.

"They're beautiful. They're proof of what you did to bring our daughter into the world."

"They're proof that my body isn't what it used to be."

"Your body is incredible. Look what it's done. You grew our son. You grew our daughter. You've fed them both from your own body. You're amazing."

Tears started in my eyes again. "I love you so much."

"Show me," he said, leading me toward the bed.

"What about the shower? I've been traveling all day."

"Later. Right now I need to hold you. I need to remember what it feels like to be complete."

We tumbled onto the bed together, careful not to be too urgent despite the desperate need I could see in his eyes. This wasn't just about physical desire. This was about reconnecting. About proving to ourselves that we still belonged together.

"Are you sure about this?" Kael asked, hovering over me.

"I've never been more sure of anything."

"Because once we do this, there's no going back. I won't be able to pretend I don't need you anymore."

"Good. Because I'm tired of pretending I don't need you."

When we came together, it was like finding a missing piece of myself. Like breathing after being underwater too long.

"God, I've missed this," Kael said, his forehead pressed against mine.

"I've missed you. All of you. Not just this, but this too."

"We fit perfectly."

"We always did."

The connection between us felt deeper than it ever had before. Maybe because we'd almost lost each other. Maybe because we'd both grown and changed and chose to come back together anyway.

"I love you," Kael whispered as we moved together.

"I love you too."

"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise me we'll never let anything come between us again. No other people, no pack politics, no misunderstandings. Promise me that if there's a problem, we'll face it together."

"I promise. Do you promise me the same thing?"

"I promise. You and the kids come first. Always. Before everything else."

"Even before pack duties?"

"Even before pack duties."

That was a bigger promise than he might realize. Alpha duties were demanding, all-consuming. But if he meant it, if he really planned to put our family first, then maybe we could make this work.

"Kael, I need to tell you something."

"What?"

"I'm still nursing Nova. My body might react differently than you expect."

"Does that mean you want to stop?"

"No. It means I wanted you to know so you wouldn't be surprised if things get messy."

"Lyra, love. After everything we've been through, do you think a little mess is going to bother me?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Besides, you're feeding our daughter with your body. That's not messy, that's miraculous."

How had I gotten so lucky? How had I found a man who thought my postpartum body was miraculous instead of inconvenient?

"You're perfect," I told him.

"No, I'm not. But I'm yours."

"You're mine."

"And you're mine."

"I'm yours."

We sealed the promise with our bodies, reconnecting in the most fundamental way possible.

When it was over, we lay tangled together in the bed that had felt empty for six months.

"Was it worth the wait?" Kael asked, running his fingers through my hair.

"It was worth everything."