[This post is from Kira’s point of view.]
Teague smiled faintly, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek. A tear slipped free of his lashes, running from his cheek to hers. She brushed it away from his cheek, wrapping both arms around him, drawing him and their son close.
“I don’t deserve you,” Teague murmured into her hair. “You know that, right?”
“Of course you deserve me.” Kira pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his jaw. “You waited for me for centuries. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
“Being in love doesn’t mean I deserve you,” he whispered, wrapping one arm around her, though loosely, comfortably, the other arm cradling their son. “Waiting doesn’t mean that I do, either.”
“Well, too bad,” she said. “Because I think you deserve me. I think we deserve each other in all the best ways.”
He choked on a laugh but didn’t argue any further. His arm tightened for a few seconds. “I do love you.”
“Good. I love you more.” Kira kissed him again, squeezing him tightly, then dropped a kiss onto their son’s forehead before she let go, stepping back. She turned to head back to the laundry. “And we shouldn’t worry. I have no doubt that all of them are incredibly capable of facing whatever you didn’t anticipate. Phelan alone is damned formidable, and I can only imagine that Neve is, too.”
“She is,” he murmured. “In so many ways that I don’t think I’ve ever really appreciated. I never—” he broke off, sighing softly. “I should have paid more attention. To a lot of things, I think.”
“You didn’t know,” Kira said. “How could you? I mean—Teague. There was no way to know and she’s your sister. I know you. All you’ve ever done is want to protect her.”
“You’re right,” he said softly. “And I tried. I just—I failed.”
