The moment his eyes opened, I could have cried.

I’d already spent enough time crying in this room. First, when I’d paced around it waiting to hear how the surgery was going — clueless and heartbroken, forced to endure the seconds ticking by one-by-one without knowing whether he was dead or alive. Then, when they’d wheeled him in, and my heart flew into my mouth with happiness and concern and guilt. He looked frail and vulnerable there on the gurney, one side of his head shaved and carefully bandaged — though a thick, dark line of brown-red had begun to sink through.

Then again, when Dr. Helen had returned to let me know that the extractions had all been successful, and that Jack’s contributions would ensure a successful vaccine for lunitis. That the world was safer now, thanks to his bravery.

When my eyes met his, the first thing he saw after waking from his surgery, I saw more than survival in his face. In fact, I saw something I’d never seen before in a partner’s eyes — not even Micah, on the day of our wedding. Never once.

His devotion was overwhelming.

I squeezed his hand. Felt his pulse and the warmth of his skin against mine.

“Jack, I can’t believe you did this,” I said — and my breath caught, knowing how accusatory that might sound. I scrambled to correct it. “Risking yourself like this. I… I’m so sorry.”

“Dylan-”

“I was so afraid.” I squeezed his hand again, shifting closer to hold it against my chest. His grip was weak, but whatever physical exhaustion he felt didn’t stretch to his eyes. I’d never seen such intensity in him. “I didn’t mean to send you away like that. I can’t believe I pushed you to this. If you never want to see me again, I understand, but… God, Jack… I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His voice was a croak, a shadow of its former depth and power. His throat must be sore from the breathing tube they’d put down his throat.

I couldn’t think about that. I already wanted to take all of his discomfort away, and he needed to understand a few things first.

“I do,” I pressed. “I sent you away. I shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t hurt anybody; you didn’t hurt us.”

“I could have.”

I shrugged, blinking back tears, and rubbed my thumb across the back of his hand. For a few moments I couldn’t speak — then, finally, I managed to push through the feeling.

“It was so stupid of me. When I thought I might lose you forever, I just… I realized what I’d given up. What I must have done to you.”

“Family comes first.”

“But I want you to be part of that family,” I insisted. “I know that now. I was angry, but… there’s not enough time on earth to cut somebody out of your life for something like that. I don’t want you out of my life. I love you.”

It felt like taking a breath after being stuck underwater. For so long I’d been afraid of the way I felt, and hurt by the space I’d put between us. It was foolish. It was hurting me, it was hurting him, and it would have hurt our child if it had continued. There was nothing to hide any more. Whether he could forgive me for shunning him or not, I needed him to hear the truth. I needed to speak it, so I couldn’t deny it any more.

He lifted his other hand to place on top of mine. I couldn’t look away from his eyes. I saw a storm in there — a swell of emotion that seemed to darken the brown of his irises, and thread our souls together.

“Are you sure?”

Even when I’d sent him away that evening in my apartment, and the phone call that followed, I had never heard such fear or passion in his voice. My eyes creased, and I leaned closer.

“Jack, of course I’m sure. I’m crazy about you. The way you make me feel — I…”

He gripped my hand tighter, kneading life into it. I hadn’t realized how still and stiff I had gotten.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way again,” I told him. “I thought I’d be alone forever, but meeting you, I just… I realized I didn’t to be.” Silently, I cursed the tremor in my voice. I needed him to know that I meant every word. That I was certain as a man could be.

Hadn’t he felt it too?

“I thought I’d fucked it up,” he said, eyes dropping to our hands. “You have no idea. I hated myself. Josie… your family… you. All of you. I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter any more,” I insisted, fighting to catch his eye, but he still wouldn’t look up. “I mean it. Nobody got hurt. You got tested. You’ve done… this crazy thing…” I blinked back my fear, trying to force my body into the understanding that it wasn’t needed any more. The danger had passed. “All that matters is you. So if you still want us…”

“Want you?” He finally met my eyes, brow furrowed low. There was a gloss of emotion over his eyes I’d never seen before — which I had thought him too stoic and masculine for. Somehow, I loved him all the more for seeing it. “Of course I want you. I love you.”

“Jack…”

“You wouldn’t let me say it,” he pointed out. “Before.”

I felt a swell of shame, and shook my head. “I know. I was stupid; I’m sorry. There was a lot in my head.”

“It’s over now.”

He smiled, small but sure, and it lit a fire in my chest. For as much as I’d already committed to him, I felt another wave of affection push me to him.

“We’re going to be a family,” he said, voice still low and crackling, but as powerful as if he’d yelled. “You, me, Josie and baby. Nothing else matters anymore.”

I leaned forward, incapable of waiting any longer, and pressed a deep kiss to his dry, sore lips. I kept my weight off him, conscious of the surgeries he’d just had and the recovery time he’d need. He’d need great care for weeks, just based on that wound on his skull — but I had him, and he had me, and no obstacles between us could change that now.

Even after so much pain and stress and fear, his kiss was strong and firm. He was still my alpha, somewhere under there. My mate.

“I don’t know how it’ll work,” Jack said. “Don’t know when I can work again. Whether I’ll fit in your apartment.” He lifted a hand to the side of his head, wincing as he felt the bandage. “Whether it’s okay for Josie to see me like this…”

“We’ll work it all out,” I promised. “And of course she can see you like this.”

“It won’t scare her?”

“Are you kidding? This is what a hero looks like.”

His hand teased the hair at the nape of my neck. Our eyes met for a beat, some wordless love passing between us, and I leaned down to kiss him soundly again.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

“Easy, now.”

I felt his hand smoothing through my hair, and closed my eyes.

“I should be the one comforting you,” I mumbled. “You went through hell today.”

“Maybe. But I arrived at heaven.”

I leaned back as the doctors stepped in, flushing slightly that they’d caught such an intimate moment. Even as they fussed around him, checking his vitals and beginning to change his bandage, he still held my eyes. Didn’t look away for a second.

Anyone would think we didn’t have a lifetime to spend together, but we’d both learned our lesson twice over, now.

Every single second counts.