Moze would likely bury the nightmarish days on the Xianzhou Lofu, let them fade like a half-remembered dream. But Jiaoqiu… Jiaoqiu would remain, etched forever in his memory. Those empty eyes, staring into nothing. Jiaoqiu, barely breathing. Jiaoqiu, bleeding like a wounded star…

He would never forget the way Jiaoqiu sighed, a silent plea, a name whispered without sound, all the strength gone from his voice. That silent call echoed in the chambers of Moze's heart, and the weight of Jiaoqiu's pain would forever stain his soul.

Moze yearned, ached, to shoulder even a fraction of Jiaoqiu's burden.

He punished himself relentlessly, the whip of guilt lashing his mind. He had failed. He had arrived too late…

And the words, the confession that clawed at his throat, remained unspoken. He couldn't tell Jiaoqiu how his heart fractured with a love so deep, so fierce… how he loved him. How he loves him.

Lady Lingsha offered a sliver of hope, a chance, however slim, to restore Jiaoqiu's sight. Now, both Feixiao and Moze tended to him, but the Shadow Guard still wrestled with the near-loss. He had almost lost him. Now, he held the healer close, cradled in his arms as they lay in their bed. Home. Moze refused to leave his side, terrified that his little fox would slip away again…

He exhaled softly against the pale curve of Jiaoqiu's neck, his lips brushing the skin, fingers tracing the line of his spine beneath the thin robe. Jiaoqiu's ears no longer perked with their usual alertness, and his tail lay still and quiet beside him.

“I love you… Jiaoqiu…”