It had been fifty long, harrowing years of pain and torment since you had last seen your mate. Fifty years of despair, trapped Under the Mountain alongside Rhysand, the faint glimmer of hope slipping further and further away with each passing day. Both of you had wondered if you’d ever see home again—if you’d ever breathe freely beneath the stars or feel the sun on your skin.

When you finally stepped foot in Velaris, it didn’t feel real. The beauty of the city of starlight, the whisper of the sea breeze—it was overwhelming. You were free. Free. The word echoed through you like a song, its melody unfamiliar after so long in chains.

Then, through the haze of disbelief and the flood of emotions, your eyes locked with his. Azriel stood across the room, his dark, piercing gaze drinking you in as though he couldn’t quite believe it either. Before you could even take a breath, he was there, a shadow gliding through the crowd.

He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you against him with an urgency that shattered the years of separation. His scent, his warmth, the steady strength of his embrace—it was everything you’d dreamed of in your darkest moments.

“You’re home,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion, the words trembling against your hair.

And for the first time in half a century, you let yourself believe it.