The drive back to Portland took three days.
They stopped in small towns, ate at diners, slept in motels. Normal things. Human things. Kael found himself noticing details he'd always ignored—the way sunlight looked on Lyra's face, the sound of her laugh when he said something stupid, the comfortable silence that had grown between them.
She didn't sleep. Not really. But she lay beside him at night, her cool hand in his, and he slept better than he had in years.
Portland was gray when they arrived. The same city they'd left, but everything felt different. The estate was quiet. Cassius was waiting.
"You did it," he said. It wasn't a question.
"All three bonds are restored," Lyra said. "The bridge is healing."
"The bridge?"
They told him. About the voice beneath the lake. About the forgiveness. About Marcus and the Silent Ones. Cassius listened without interrupting, his winter-sky eyes unreadable.
When they finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
"I spent a hundred and fifty years pretending the creature in the tunnel didn't exist," he said finally. "I told myself I was protecting my family. Protecting the treaty. But I was just afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I admitted I'd failed." He looked at Lyra. "You did what I couldn't. Both of you."
"We didn't do it alone," Lyra said. "Helena. Mira. You and Aldric. Everyone who chose to believe."
"Even Marcus Valerius. In the end."
Kael's phone buzzed. A message from his father.
"Heard you're back. The pack is gathering. They want to meet her."
He showed the message to Lyra. She read it, her expression shifting.
"Your pack wants to meet me. A vampire."
"Looks that way."
"That's either very good or very bad."
"Probably both."
She took his hand. "Okay. Let's go meet your family."