“Tell me I’m not dreaming,” she whispered as the man closed the space between them, drawing Blythe into arms that were somehow familiar. Arms in which she would spend every moment for the rest of her life content. “Tell me that it’s you.” His very touch was the balm she’d waited for. The salve that she could never be sure would come as he cupped her cheek in his palm. “Hello, Sweetbrier.” He took her chin in his hand, and between her lips Aris whispered, “I’ve finally found you.”
