Lucien did not realize how much the past events haunted him. In the first nights after the war ended, nightmares plagued him continuously. When he was awake, he had to see the wounded werewolves. When he was asleep, he was back in the wretched valley. The land collapsed, burying the unlucky warriors underneath.
Including Ronan.
No matter how loud Lucien screamed, his voice did not reach Ronan.
"Lulu?"
Lucien inhaled a deep breath.
He put his arms around Ronan and buried his face into the latter's chest.
He could feel the Alpha's steady heartbeat. His warm breath. His warm body.
The war was over.
Twenty-five precious lives were lost.
Lucien hated himself for being thankful that Ronan was not among those who passed away. He did not know what he would do if Ronan was no longer around.
"I love you," Lucien whispered. "Don't ever leave me."
Ronan tilted Lucien's chin up and locked their lips together again.