Page 64 of Raven

She wore a navy fire department T-shirt under a wrinkled flannel—borrowed or thrown on in haste.

I could see the exhaustion in her, but she was still alert.

She was always ready.

One child was curled into the other. Beatrice stroked the smaller one’s hair.

A fierce. Gentle. Protector.

That’s my girl.

I stepped into the doorway. Mandy raised her head.

“Beatrice,” I said softly.

She turned. Her eyes widened.

And then she saw me.

“Raven?” she breathed.

In two long strides, she was in my arms.

* * *

I held her.Crushed her against me.

God, she felt good—warm, real, alive.

I buried my face in her hair, inhaling the lavender and vanilla scent that had haunted me for weeks.

She was shaking.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” she whispered, voice thick. “I missed you so much. Mandy’s a hero—there’s so much to tell you.”

My throat ached. I pressed my lips to her temple.

“I missed you too,” I said roughly. “More than anything.”

She pulled back, just enough to see my face. Tears sparkled in her eyes.

“Six weeks,” I murmured, brushing a clean path through the soot on her cheek. “Felt like six years.”

She gave a wet laugh. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Her hand cupped my face. Her thumb traced my jaw. “Are you hurt? How did it go?”

“I’m fine. The mission’s done. I came straight back.”

I gently curled a strand of her hair around my finger. “There’s something I need to tell y—”

A soft whimper interrupted us.

* * *

One of the children stirred.The older one—a boy—sat up, blinking at me and Mandy.

Beatrice was instantly by his side. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “This is Raven. He’s my friend. Mandy’s with us.”

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