Alani inhaled deeply, letting the frigid air rush into his lungs.
His chest rose, then fell, his breath spilling out in a white plume.
Right now he was content with the world.
When his gaze shifted toward his sister, he noticed the faintest curve on her lips.
A smile.
It had been so long.
He hated to admit it, but he could not remember the last time he'd seen her smile like this.
Ever since the disappearance of the Prince years ago, Anya had carried a storm within her.
She had blamed herself for not being strong enough, for failing to protect him when he needed her most.
The weight of that failure had driven her into the hunting grounds again and again until her bones groaned beneath the strain, until her skin was mapped with scars and until she thought she was strong enough.
Sure they could heal the physical scars but the mental ones? They couldn't.
Strength had been her solace.
But joy? That had left her.
