Five pairs of wide-eyed males stared dumbfoundedly at Isabella. She swallowed the nervous knot in her throat. And lifted her chin up, in a miserable attempt to appear confident and sure of herself. "I would like to be trained to fight," She repeated.

"We heard you," Lorcan blurted out, slightly uninterested.

Gavriel elbowed him, and cleared his throat. He offered her a polite smile, "And we would lov-"

"I'll train her" Rowan's voice brought silence into the cosy kitchen.

Gavriel blinked. "What?"

"I'll train her" He shrugged, and avoided her gaze as he continued. "She wants to learn how to fight, so I'll teach her"

Gavriel tilted his head to the side, with one of his hands, he rubbed the back of his neck. Nervously, she realized, -no-, awkwardly. "Well, I don't know if that'd be for the best" The male admitted.

Rowan clenched his jaw, and Thea saw the way his knuckles turned white with his hands in tight fists. "Why not?" He gritted out. Annoyed. He was annoyed.

The lion paled visibly. He avoided his friend's gaze. "You know, it's just that-"

"-That you are the biggest pain in the ass when you turn into your 'mentor mode on'" Fenrys finished for Gavriel, with little delicacy.

Rowan opened his mouth, indignant, "I'm not-"

"You are" The three males said in unison.

"Fuckers"

"So," Fenrys thrummed his fingers on the table, his voice casual. Too casual. His eyes were on Gavriel, "Who will train her?"

"I can do it" Lorcan said, his voice in between a tired sigh and annoyance. As if he were doing everyone a favour.

Fenrys' head turned immediately in Isabella's direction. He stared gravely at her, "You are dead"

"Careful!" Lorcan growled, loudly. A clear warning.

The youngest male raised his hands in the air, a surrender. "I'm just stating the truth," He pointed with his index finger at Rowan. "You are an absolute cruel arse when you are in charge of training someone" He turned to Lorcan. "You are so demanding that very few can keep up with your regime, she'll pass away from overworking herself in less than a week" Lastly, he shrugged in Gavriel's direction. "And you are just too old"

"I fail to see the reasoning in you-"

"In conclusion" Fenrys continued, clasping his hands, as if he were giving a lesson. "I am the best candidate for Isabella" He looked at her cheerfully, "I'll train you"

"No" Gavriel cut in, quickly and efficiently. "We will all train her, that way she will be able to learn much better"

Fenrys pouted, "But I would be a great master"

"You just became a soldier in battle, Boyo" Lorcan grunted with a dismissive snort.

"If I may voice my opinion," Kilax added, politely. During the pathetic argument, he had served tea and brought biscuits for everyone to enjoy. "I believe Gavriel's idea to be the wisest"

"I'm slightly -no, scratch that- highly offended by all of you" Fenrys protested, though his words were revoked by the immediate reach of his hand for a biscuit. "You've all wounded me"

"Ha!" Lorcan let out a humorless laugh, "I didn't know we could hurt your pride. Now that I'm aware I'll make sure to do it more frequently"

The youngest male rolled his eyes as he placed more biscuits in his mouth. "This is why nobody likes you, Lorcan"

"I like you, Lorcan, don't let him get to you" The lion assured him. One of his hands resting on the brooding male's shoulder.

He nodded, and then turned his gaze at Rowan. Pointedly. Expectantly. Rowan noticed this, and sighed. "I like you, Lorcan," He mumbled.

"Thank you"

"Fucking babies" Fenrys muttered.

"Says the one who needs constant words of validation" Lorcan mocked, in a singsong voice that Isabella had never heard before. Not from him.

In fact, she had never seen him in such a state before. Not relax, but rather, open. Friendly. Or as close as he could get to it. Amused. As if he were trying...though Isabella was not sure what for. Despite the fact that this new side of the male was slightly unnerving, it was not unwelcomed. In fact, Isabella liked it. It made her feel...as if she fit in. With them.

A warm feeling spread in her stomach, in her chest, and it was enough for her to forget about the nightmares of the last few days -momentarily- and eat while the others chatted.

~

In the midday hours, Isabella sat on her bed. She was a little bit afraid of falling again if she dared to lay on it unless it was for sleeping. Actually, the idea terrified her. She was still wary of her strength, and the bed -and all the memories and emotions that she had felt while laying on it- was like a monster ready to drown her if she gave it the chance.

She didn't want that.

She thought that, perhaps, that was already a good sign. The first step into a healthier life.

Isabella was so tired of feeling drenched from life, as if she had died years ago and it was only her ghost -filled only with negative thoughts- the way she wandered the earth. She wanted it all to stop. She wanted to stop choking on her self-pity, she wanted to look back at her past and be able to recognize the good moments; even if they were stained with blood.

Isabella longed for the sense of life, for it to burn brightly in her soul, and for the pain to go away.

However, she knew it would never leave her. The aching weighing down her soul would always accompany her -and embrace her like an old friend as it descended upon her-, but she also knew that time would help her. That time was a healer. An undying source of strength and hope she needed to learn how to clung to.

Time would help her numb the pain. It would not make her forget, but it would help.

But firstly, she needed to want it. She needed to put mind into it, she needed to dance with the change.

A part of Isabella wanted it. That, and more. An even smaller, darker, and hopeless part of her could even imagine it...

It would have to be enough. For now.

It will, she told herself. It will.

~

When the moon made its appearance and the darkness along with it, Isabella could still not bring herself to even place a hand on her bed. The mere sight of it, now that it was only illuminated by the dim light from a candle while the stars shone in the sky, made her stomach turn, and her hands to tremble.

She tried to look through her window, but even the misty, obsidian sky sent shivers running down her spine. Nothing of this had happened to her before, but she was no stranger to the development of new fears. Isabella was a master at it.

Isabella willed herself to try again. One limb at a time. She managed to sit before the bile rose in her throat and she had to run for a bathroom to vomit. Her vision was dizzy, she was cold -and yet, sweating-, her whole body shook with her panicked tremors, and her breath was jagged.

She could recognize the signs of an impending panic attack from the farthest of distances. But Isabella did not want to suffer from one. Not now. Not ever again. She was tired. Of herself. Of being weak. Of the agony. And of losing the remainants of herself.

The shaking in her hands intensified, and a sob broke from her throat.

There is a life after death, Isabella. Love after pain. And peace after torture.

The words echoed in the depths of her mind like a forgotten lullaby.

Isabella lunged herself at them. At the words. At their meaning. And the voice from where they came from.

I died that day. And I was dead for a very long time after that. But, believe me, there is an after. We can live with missing parts of our souls and hearts. We can learn to do so. We can adapt. It's hard. And painful. And there will be days when real death will feel like heaven.

Tears ran wild down her face, and a deep ache built in her heart. But her hands had stopped shaking.

She took a shuddering breath. Then another. She repeated the words in her head. She sang them like a prayer. Like an oath.

There is a worthy after.

There is a worthy after.

There is a worthy after.

There is a worthy after.

There is a worthy after.

A promise.

Hope.

An after.

Isabella breathed again, and stood up in firm legs. She went back to her room, and faced the monster clawing at her bed.

~

She was not allowed to start training until she had regained some of her new lost weight. Kilax's cooking skills were the epiphany of food, and he made sure to spoil Isabella with delicious food. Most times she could not finish her food. Most times she ended up throwing up. But, sometimes, she was able to eat and feel full. And sometimes she was able to keep her digested food inside of her.

That was what counted. That was what Isabella focused on.

Lorcan often gave her instructions on what to eat, and orders on how to slowly start walking so she would -at least- gain a shadow of muscles. To his surprise, she followed every word he said. She bit the food he pointed at, and strode around the house a good number of times throughout the day. There were times when she even dared to go outside, and it was Lorcan who accompanied her. Who guarded her from the possible threats lurking in the shadows of the forest.

They did not talk much during those times. But Isabella enjoyed the silence. And when the male spoke a few words, Isabella did not feel overwhelmed. Lorcan was large, broad, and his mere presence emanated fear; but to Isabella -she had learned- neither of those things bothered her.

She knew he was dangerous, and having him by his side, protecting her, made her feel close to safe. Calm.

He was a male of few words, so he never pressured her to speak when she did not want to. And she was grateful for it, because speaking was still something that she found hard at most times.

Fenrys had begun mixing oils, and creating hand-made creams. He would often brag about it during dinner time, and try to persuade everyone to touch his soft hands -a result of his invented creams.

He always gave one of his new lotions to Isabella. Even if she did not use them. He made sure to bring her his new discovery, and then sit down next to her to chat. He often did most of the talking. And surprisingly, Isabella was grateful by his intense chat, for it allowed her to fill the silence that sometimes threatened to shatter her.

Gavriel was amazing at carving, and he had made countless new spears and knives with wood obtained -by himself- from the forest surrounding them. His work was smooth, and slow. But also beautiful and passionate.

Some days, he called for her to sit with him while he worked, and he would tell her of the different weapons that existed in the world. He would tell her of the best way to feel comfortable around them, and how their weight felt in her hands. He taught her how to make small knives, how to aim herself, and how to wield them. He had even gifted her a spear. Tiny and smooth, with her name engraved. She loved it. It made her feel like she was not so helpless. She was grateful for it.

And Rowan...

Rowan did not talk with her. They greeted each other every day, but they had not talked -not really-, since he had shared a part of his part with her. She wondered if perhaps that was his thing...that if whenever he -or somebody else- opened up, his instinct reaction was to shut himself down. To isolate himself...

The thought made her see things more clearly, understand him a bit more, and allowed her to let go of the nasty feelings he had held against him for so long.

In a way, she was grateful for it, too.

~

Isabella stilled her breath. She opened and closed her hands that hung at her sides. And she forced herself to sit on her bed. For days, she had slept on the floor, not even a pillow under her head; for the fear of memories crawling on her bead, and everything that laid on it, horrified her.

The ringing in her ears increased, and she walked to her nightstand and grabbed the knife Gavriel had gifted her. Her grip on it was so tight her hand started trembling. Isabella bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, but even that pain was not enough to distract her from her shallow breaths.

For days, she had tried to sleep on top of the bed, and for days, she had failed. The floor was cold, and uncomfortable, but better and freeing than the mattress.

It was hard to fight against her own fear, against herself; and even harder to realize she was losing.

Isabella could not handle it anymore, she stormed out of her room, and went straight onto the kitchen. She splashed some water on her face and neck. The cold chilled her, and her breathing steadied. Kilax had confessed to her he had spelled most of the furniture in his home. The kitchen always had clean water ready from a barrel, and it never seemed to end, it was always full. The fire of the hearth flamed to life as soon as someone so much as thought it needed it, and no matter the weather, the temperature inside the house was always perfect.

She liked it. The house. Not just because it was full of magic, but also because it was filled with objects. There was not an empty corner to be seen, and every room was decorated with different dry flowers.

Isabella looked down at her reflection, slightly better than the last time, and took a deep, calming breath. She turned in her heels at the sound of a low gasp, and found Rowan standing on the doorway.
Despite her state, she felt an impending heat creeping to her cheeks. She was not sure if it was because of awkwardness due to their recent lack of communication, or because Rowan was shirtless. Probably both.

She allowed herself only an objective glance down his tattooed torso. His body was one of a God, with muscles shaping every corner of his figure. The tattoos did not look intruding or indecent, but rather beauteous, and enchanting. Attractive. Mesmerizing. The golden glow of his skin matched the ink perfectly, and Isabella felt suddenly out of breath.

"Can't sleep?" He asked her, his voice throaty.

She blinked, and it was a force against nature that allowed her to keep her eyes from straying down. She nodded.

He cleared his throat, and rubbed the back of his neck. He avoided her gaze. "Me too" was all he said.

She blinked again, and snapped out of her daze. She frowned, "Why?"

For the first time in days, his eyes found hers, and he did not try to look away. "Nightmares," He confessed.

"Me too," She whispered.

"I know" She raised her eyebrows in surprise. He shrugged. "You tend to...speak in your sleep" He must have seen the shame twisting in her guts, for he hurried to add, "It's absolutely normal, I yell in my sleep too. We all do"

"Yell?"

He nodded quickly, his words were tripping with nervousness. "It doesn't happen every day, and I cannot always hear you, but there's nothing to be ashamed of. Nightmares feel real, more than dreams do. It's only natural to scream when it is too much"

Isabella swallowed, and looked down at her hands. She breathed. He was right. It was natural. He had admitted to doing it, too. And the rest. She was not different from them, she should not be ashamed of the tull her trauma pulled on her. It wasn't as if they already knew what had caused those nightmares, anyway.

She tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. His face mirrored her own, and she laughed at how absurd the situation was. He joined her.

She had not laughed in so long...

"Thank you," She told him.

She did not look to explain what she meant, Isabella was sure he knew. He looked her up and down, not a trace of the lust she had peaked at once in his eyes, but rather a form of understanding. An offering. And a new beginning. Perhaps for both of them.

He gave her a cut nod, and then a kind, tired smile. "No problem"

She had never seen him smile like that before.

For a second, she felt dazed. Giddy. It disappeared as soon as it came.

Isabella gestured to the barrel behind her, "Did you want to drink?"

He looked confused for a moment, then seemed to get a hold of himself again. "Yes," He cleared his throat. "I was, actually"

Before he could move, Isabella grabbed two cups and filled them with cold water. She handed one to him. He thanked her, and they both drank in silence. Rowan looked down at his empty glass, and Isabella wondered what he was thinking about so intentevely that he looked as if a battle were taking place in his mind.

After two minutes, she knew.

"It helps me when I sleep somewhere open"

She looked through one of the windows of the kitchen, to the vast world outside it. A world that was not hers. "My room has a window"

"I know" He hesitated before continuing, "My room has three wide windows, I think Kilax knows -somehow- that I sleep better when I don't feel trapped" She failed to see what he was trying to say, and her brow creased in confusion. "You can sleep in my room, If you want to"

Her eyes opened widely in surprise, she even took a step back. He confused her shock with fear, and walked farther away from her -as if he were afraid his presence was too much for her, and wanted nothing more than to give her some space-. He almost tripped with a chair as he walked backwards.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean it that way" He was talking so fast, Isabella had never seen him looking so...flushed with embarrassment. It was quite adorable. "Forget I said anything, I'm going back"

Isabella took a single step towards him, she raised her hand to try to grab his arm and stop him before she thought better of it. "Where would you sleep?"

Her question brought him to a halt. He rubbed the back of his neck again. "Your room?"

She raised a single eyebrow, and was unable to prevent herself from an entertained smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You don't sound so sure of it"

He gazed, for a heartbeat, at her lips, and noticed that she was not mad. She was not uncomfortable. She was not afraid...She was amused. Relief flooded through his system, and a chuckle left his lips. "I am," He assured her.

"So you want to swap rooms"

"Exactly"

"But you said it was harder for you if you felt trapped, my room has only one window" She reminded him.

He shrugged, "I have lived with these nightmares for longer than you, I'll be fine"

She rolled her eyes, "You are so dramatic sometimes"

He grinned, and his fangs glistened in the candlelight. "Last time I checked, I was not Fenrys. He is dramatic"

"Check again" Her smile widened.

His did too. "No, thanks"

It was fun, she realized, to innocently joke around with him like this. It was fun to go for a walk with Lorcan. It was fun to listen to Fenrys' talk about unimportant things. And it was fun to see Gavriel work.

The realization shook something in her, shattering an old memory, a belief of hers, a prejudice; and she felt calmer in that moment than she had in years. She let out a sigh.

"What is it?" There was worry in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, and debated if she should voice her thoughts or not. In the end, she felt like she owed it to Rowan to be honest when he had shared his past and struggles after Lyria.

Isabella tilted her head to the side, a bit of hair falling on her face before she tucked it behind her ear. "I just realized I was wrong" A pause, then she added. "About you and the others" She let out a breathless laugh at his puzzled face. "I used to believe you -and the rest- were and acted in a certain way. I thought I knew you well. But I never did" She looked out through the window. The night sky waiting for her to go on. "I knew the versions of yourself that Sarah had written, that she had altered and molded to her will; and when I realized none of you were as I had believed...I was hurt. Disappointed. For so long, the characters of books -their stories- had been my only distraction while I -while they-" She had to stop, for a know had formed in her throat. Rowan did not urge her to continue, he did not reassure her she was alright, he did not touch her; but he was there. Waiting. And that was okay. "Books had been my salvation before, and they were once again when they took me. I could not read, they never gave us anything, least of all books, but all those stories were alive in me. I remembered them. I did not need to read them to know what happened.

"Books had saved me, the only good thing still in my mind, and when I realized none of those stories I had loved, none of those characters I had cared for so much, were not what I had believed...Well, I think the part of me that had held onto it for so long broke. And I blamed it on you. On the others" She let out a shaky breath, and allowed herself to shed a few tears. Tears were fine. They were out. Not inside her. And letting go was good. Healthy. "I blamed you for many things, for things that I expected from all of you that no one had any reason to do, because I was a stranger to you, too. I blamed everyone except for me. Because that meant it was not my fault, and therefore I was not entitled to do those things"

Isabella shrugged, and hugged herself against the world. "I guess what I am trying to say is...I'm sorry. And thank you"

When no answer reached her, she looked up at Rowan. He was pale, so pale compared to only moments before, his eyes wild, and his throat bobbed. His voice, when he spoke, was tight. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing"

She looked away. "I do" She had many things to apologize for. And she would. With time. And help. She would find the way to beg for forgiveness and cry in gratitude to those who deserved it, to those she had left behind. She would.

"Isa-"

"I think I will take you up on your offer. Show me to your room, please"

He did.

~

Isabella slept in his room. On his bed. In a place that smelled like him: snow and pines. Like winter, her favorite season. Although it was still hard, it was also easier there than it had been in her room. And the windows...they were beautiful, large, wide and open to the beauty of a world Isabella still had to explore.

Before falling asleep, she whispered his -and now her- words to herself.

There is a life after death, Isabella. Love after pain. And peace after torture.

There is a worthy after.

She sang them until she fell asleep, and once again when her nightmares shook her awake. And again from the beginning before sleep found her one more time.

~

Lorcan did not particularly care for baths, but even he had to admit to himself that he stunk. So when he got up from his bed, he took a bath. Then, he went to the kitchen for something he did care much about: food.

Nobody realized the privilege and heaven that food was unless they had ever starved. And Lorcan had starved for years. As a child. After he was abandoned by his mother for being a mistake she did not want to deal with, and his unknown father because Lorcan was a half-breed.

So, yes, he ate a lot. Because he never knew when he would starve again, when his stomach would ache so much he would feel like dying, and he did not care if others thought he was a glutton. He gave no fucks.

He made himself eggs, and toast with butter and jam. He may have also made enough for the others to eat when they woke up. Though he would never admit it.

"Good morning, Lorcan" Kilax greeted him with more cheerfulness than Lorcan had in all his system.

"Gdfj mornojfg" He said with his mouth full.

The healer looked out his window, "It's a very nice morning, today"

Lorcan shrugged, and took a bite from his toast. It was delicious.

"You are a male of few words, I'm learning"

Lorcan did not even bother to try to answer that. He followed every mood the healer made -though he had received them and hosted them, he was still wary of him. Kilax was powerful. Too powerful. And something else- as he prepared himself some coffee. The male took the seat across from Lorcan, and took a sip from his drink.

He ignored him, but then he felt himself grow heavy and light, alive and dead, there and somewhere else.

He realized he was just seeing something else. Not his reality, nor a memory of his own, but one that belonged to Isabella. And that was from another world.

Lorcan stood in a corner. He was in a room. A girl's room. With light blue walls, and drawings glued to them. An individual bed with pink bed sheets rested in the other corner, and big double windows filtered the light coming from outside.Books were everywhere. On the bed. On the bookshelves lining the walls. On the nightstand. On the floor. And sitting in a chair with a desk in front of her, was Isabella.

A younger version of herself. Much younger. With longer hair and chubbier cheeks. And...happy. She looked happy. Undoubtedly, even as a tired sight left her lips. She had a small, rectangular thing in her hand close to her ear. Sounds came from that tiny thing.

"I know, can you believe it?" Isabella waited for a second while she listened to the voice coming from the rectangular thing before speaking again. "He's fantastic, I'm so mad at the way they treated him. He didn't deserve it"

There was so much passion in her voice as she spoke, so much warmth and honesty. It took his breath away.

"It wasn't his fault! Not really, if you think about it. He just did what he thought was right, he did the only thing he instinct told him would protect Elide. That was all he wanted. To save her. He was ready to die for it. I cannot understand how people can not love him!" She exclaimed.

With his fae hearing, he knew someone had responded to her words, but he was unable to understand what that voice was saying. Or understand how such tiny thing could help two people communicate.

"I know, Kaz" Isabella said, another sigh leaving her lips as she used her free hand to play with the papers on her desk. "It's just that I want Lorcan to be happy and loved. I just want him to be with his mate and have the family he deserves. That's all. I hate what happened in Empire of Storms and the way the fandom keeps attacking him"

Lorcan froze in his place. Even his heart stopped in his chest. Isabella had said his name. And there had been so much affection in her words as she had spoken them. As she had defended him and wished happiness for him.

The image disappeared, and he found himself in the kitchen with Kilax still drinking his coffee in front of him. As if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just...

"What did you do?" He breathed. "Why?"

Kilax feigned innocence, "What? I did not do a thing"

"Liar" Lorcan had wanted for his words to sound threatening, strong, but they had come out as a whisper.

The healer blinked, and stood from his seat. "I did nothing" He said, and left him alone.

Lies. He spoke nothing but lies.

~

Gavriel was the first to rise when dawn broke. He knew Lorcan was in the kitchen with Kilax, and that Fenrys was still sleeping like the dead in his room. That Isabella was sleeping in Rowan's room, and that his hawk friend had not slept at all.

For a moment, he wondered if his friend would mind some company. If he would need it. But then, he thought better of it. Rowan was still adjusting, Isabella was slowly starting to show signs of improvement, and he knew Rowan. He did not need company now. He needed space. So Gavriel would give him that.

He shifted into his mountain lion form, and ran around the forest. He climbed trees and allowed himself to feel the world as an animal, and not as a being with responsibilities. The wind roared in his ears, and his paws marveled at the speed in which he ran. He loved the freedom that came with being just an animal running wildly. He loved it so much, he craved it so much sometimes he could hardly breathe.

He ran for hours, until his body was so tired he could shift into his fae form again and the weight of what he had lost did not threaten to crush him.

He set himself to work on more weapons. One, because he liked it. Two, because it dristacted him. And three, because she had taught him...

Gavriel was so caught up in his work that he did not notice the presence of the male until he heard him speak.

"Hello, Gavriel," Kilax told him.

"Good morning"

The healer took a seat close to him -the one Isabella often took when he gave her lessons- and remained silent.

His instincts were alert, and it was because of the power emanating from the male. Kilax was powerful, unknown, and ancient. His mere scent gave Gavriel chills.

"I like your work" Kilax told him, politely.

He nodded, "Thank you"

"I would like to show you something"

Gavriel stopped working, and his instincts told him both to run away and to stay and fight. Slowly, he left his weapons on the floor and nodded to the healer. Kilax smiled and the world disappeared.

There was no forest. Not home. Not wood to be carved. Only a room. A girl's room covered in darkness. It was night, and the girl was not sleeping in her bed, but rather tipped furiously on a big rectangular thing that laid open on her lap.

Light came from that thing, enough to illuminate the young girl's face. It was Isabella. Youth covered every gesture of her, and life. So much life and passion and emotion and warm-heartedness. The shock from it almost made him falter in his place.

She was so different from the woman he knew. So sadly different. It almost tore his heart apart.

He was fascinated by all the energy radiating from her as she harshly pressed buttons down. She was murmuring something, low enough that even his hearing could not detect. Then, a loud, female voice came from outside her room. "Go to sleep, Isabella, you have school tomorrow" Isabella did not respond, and she did not close the thing on her lap, either. The female spoke again, "I know you are awake, I'm going to cut the wi-fi so you better go to sleep. Now"

Isabella rolled her eyes and pressed more bottoms down. She murmured something again, but this time Gavriel was able to hear her clearly. "I will give you the ending you deserve, Gavriel. A happy ending full of love and happiness, just like you deserve. And who cares if it's not canon? Or just fanfiction? Fangirls should rule the world"

His breath caught in his throat, and a strange knot formed in his stomach. In his chest. His name had been spoken with so much fondness, so much affection...

The image disappeared, and so did that whisper of care. Gavriel was back to his reality, to his wood and world. He looked at Kilax, his eyes wide, "What-?"

The male stood up, and smiled down at Gavriel -whose hands were slightly shaking-, "That was all I needed to show you" He told him, and left him alone.

In his place, that no longer felt calming, with his thoughts transformed into a storm as the whisper of Isabella's words made him want to cry.

~

Fenrys loved his beauty rest. He did not really need it, but he loved it anyway. He loved to be properly rested, and to look great. His friends did not often understand it, but it was not his fault his friends were barbarians who refused to suitably comb their hair.

So Fenrys walked out of his room only after applying all of his fantastic hand-made creams, dressing according to the weather, and combing his hair perfectly.

He was halfway to the kitchen when he saw Isabella coming out of Rowan's room. He frowned in confusion and interest as the girl saw him looking at her and blushed. She walked away quickly. Not even a minute later, Rowan came inside the house, and Fenrys looked from him to the door of his room pointedly while wiggling his eyebrows.

Rowan rolled his eyes, and quickly explained that they had swap rooms. He thought it was quite disappointing that nothing more interesting had happened, but he also thought it was good that both his friend and Isabella were taking their time to find their way to the other. Because they would. Fenrys had no doubt of it. They were mates, after all. Despite Rowan's claims that the mating bond was not enough blah blah blah. His friend was lucky he had found his mate.

Fenrys wondered if he even had one. And if he did, when would he meet them.

He shook those useless thoughts away and threw himself on Kilax's couch. He had decided to take a free day, and he would make sure not to do anything unless he was forced to. Soon, he was already sleep.

When he awoke from his nap, he found Kilax watching him. He jumped in his place, and tried to make some distance between the two of them. The male was so strange and powerful that he gave Fenrys' goosebumps. And he did not like to be seen while he was vulnerable sleeping by him.

"What were you doing?"

Kilax smiled kindly at him, "Sorry, I did not mean to startle you, I just came to inform you that lunch is ready"

Fenrys stood up quickly, and started stroking to the kitchen when his reality shattered and he found himself somewhere else.

The girl laying on the floor with a book in her hands sighed and sat properly. Her face, Fenrys recognized immediately as Isabella's, the liveliness in her whole demeanor, he didn't.

It was not the fact that she looked younger, or the fact that she was obviously in her room, but the aliveness radiating from her that made his throat bobbed. She looked innocent, naive and strong and unshattered.

He had always known her as a soldier returning half her weight, but here, she was whole. And happiness looked so good on her.

Isabella closed the book she was reading and stared longingly at the cover. She touched it as if it were precious, and said. "I cannot wait till the next book comes out" She was speaking loudly to herself. "I hope Fenrys is alright. I really hope he is. I just want him to be alright"

He looked away, and bit the inside of his cheek. Isabella kept talking.

"I hope she doesn't torture him. He doesn't deserve it. Out of all of them, he hated her so much...Please be alright"

He felt his blood in his mouth, and everything changed.

He turned in his heels to look back at Kilax, the only one who could have shown him that private moment of Isabella's life, but the male was gone.

It was Fenrys the only one standing there, looking at nothing, and with a heavy feeling in his chest.

~

Rowan rubbed his tired eyes. He had not slept at all last night, but it had been all worth it when Isabella had thanked him after breakfast with an honest smile. All. Fucking. Worth. It. Seeing her getting better was like seeing a flower bloom right before his eyes. It was beautiful. Dazzling. Bewitching. And it made him want to cut his skin open when he remembered all the things he was keeping from her. All the information.

He had asked his friends to gather to discuss something. He had not revealed what. And he was ready to hear his brothers' words of refusal. But Rowan didn't care. Everytime he looked at her face he was closer and closer from spilling every secret they had not revealed to her. It was killing it.

And the mating bond did not help.

He was also growing tired of it. His mere instincts rebelled against him for that thought.

So Rowan focused on replaying the words he would say to his friends to convince them of telling her everything. Or, at least, enough for her not to be in the dark.

Lorcan, Gavriel, and Fenrys were waiting for him hidden in the forest. Rowan did not want to waste any time, so he looked at every single one dead in the eye.

"We have to tell her"

He waited for the three of them to refuse, to hear their words and then refute them with all the arguments he had memorized the night before. He was ready for it all. But his friends did not speak.

They were all avoiding his gaze, all lost in their own world, all looking...shaken.

Rowan opened his mouth, "What-?"

"Alright" Fenrys said, cutting him off. "I agree. We should tell her"

Rowan looked expectantly at the others. Lorcan nodded, and Gavriel...Rowan held his breath as he waited for his oldest friend to give him the answer he was praying for.

Defeatedly, Gavriel sighed, and locked eyes with Rowan. "Okay, we'll tell her about the war"

~

More days passed, and with Isabella's good recovery, they were all able to start their journey once again. They had everything ready. Food, clothes, herbs, and they would all take turns to carry Isabella till they could get her horse back.

They day of their leaving, Rowan walked to Kilax, and together they saw the final preparations being done.

"Thank you" He muttered, with honesty and gratitude, to the healer who had saved his life twice. Firstly, when that arrow had hit him. Secondly, when he had saved his mate from death. "I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done"

Kilax shook his head lightly, and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "There's no such thing as debt between us. Be free, and live, Rowan Whitethorn"

Rowan wanted to protest, but he could sense the finality of the argument in the healer's demeanor, so he shut his mouth.

They remained silent for a few minutes before Kilax spoke again, "I have a present for you"

He turned to look at the male, confused and surprised. "A gift? For me? Why?"

Kilax smiled knowingly, "Because you need it"

Rowan was at an unknown place. Somewhere with shelves filled with books, and people in strange clothes. He walked to where a scent he knew better than his own directed him, and found himself staring at a young Isabella.

She was smiling shyly at an older woman packing her order. She was adorable, beautiful and happy. His heart clenched in his chest at the sight. He could have fallen on her knees for that life to return fully to her, for that smile to be wide and happy.

He would have given his life, too.

Isabella gave the woman some colored papers, and in return, she gave it a bag with a book inside. The woman saw the way Isabella excitedly studied the book still in her bag, and smiled warmly.

"That's a great book, a favorite of my kids"

Isabella gifted the woman with a shy smile, and Rowan wanted nothing more but to force the woman to thank her for it. "Really?" She asked her.

The woman nodded, "Oh, yes, yes, I even read it myself and loved it. Be ready to meet the best love interest to have ever been written: Rowan Whitethorn"

Isabella beamed, she fucking beamed, as she responded. "I cannot wait to meet him"