Page 104 of Salt Between the Wolves

Eira set down her cup, and neither woman spoke.

Below them, Lyra's excited voice rang through the courtyard, and for the first time since arriving at the estate, Eira found herself wondering about the man whose absence had made all of this possible.

For a few moments neither of them moved.

The sounds from the courtyard grew louder as voices drifted through the falling snow, accompanied by the familiar bustle that followed the return of someone expected.

Then Lyra's voice rang out again, louder this time and followed almost immediately by laughter—real laughter, the kind that escaped before anyone remembered to be dignified.

Eira found herself drawn toward the window.

Below, lantern light spilled across the snow-covered yard.

Several riders had entered through the gates and were already dismounting near the stables. Stable hands moved forward to take reins while dogs darted excitedly between boots and horses, barking at everyone equally.

Near the center of the commotion stood a man shrugging snow from his cloak.

He was taller than most of those around him, broad-shouldered from years spent outdoors rather than years spent commanding others. Nothing about him suggested the carefully cultivated authority Eira had grown accustomed to among alphas and nobles. Instead, he looked tired, cold, and mildly overwhelmed by the reception waiting for him, especially when Lyra launched herself at him with enough force to nearly send both of them into the snow.

"Gods."

The word reached the window clearly as the man staggered, caught her, and laughed.

"Lyra."

"You were gone forever."

"I was gone three days."

"Forever."

"I see."

Eira heard Maelin exhale softly beside her.

It was not irritation but relief, the kind that arrived only after seeing someone return safely. This was what waiting for someone looked like when love wasn't tangled up with fear.

Below them, Lyra was already talking, and the words came so quickly that even from the window Eira could see her father struggling to keep pace.

At one point he glanced helplessly toward Finn, who had emerged from somewhere nearby, but Finn merely shook his head in the manner of a man abandoning all hope.

The exchange made Eira smile.

Then Lyra grabbed her father's hand and announced something with enormous enthusiasm.

The man blinked and asked a question.

Lyra answered immediately.

His expression changed, not dramatically but enough for the smile to fade and confusion to take its place.

Another question followed, and this time Lyra pointed toward the house, toward them, toward this very window.

Eira's stomach tightened.

Beside her, Maelin went completely still.

Down below, the man slowly lifted his head.