Page 31 of Little Witch

The voice cut through the room, and I froze up entirely. Even blinking was wrong.

"Amber?" he said again. This time louder, firmer. Hard enough to make me flinch and not out of fear.

For a second the world seemed to narrow down to that single word. My name, spoken by a voice I hadn't heard in years, one that belonged to someone I'd genuinely believed was gone for good.

No. It couldn't be.

But then I turned, and there he was.

My dad.

He stepped out from a doorway on the far side of the room, a small stack of books balanced in his arms, his eyes going wide the second they landed on me. He looked almost exactly as I remembered him — tall, lean, the same strong jaw I used to trace with my finger as a kid. But the years had left their mark too. Silver threaded through the dark hair at his temples now, fine lines carved deep at the corners of his eyes, the kind that only came from years of worry.

The books slipped from his hands, hitting the floor. He didn't seem to notice.

"Amber?" he said again, softer this time, his voice cracking clean down the middle. "Is that really you?"

"Dad?" My own voice came out barely above a whisper.

Neither of us moved for a long moment. I could feel Rowan's hand still holding mine, but every part of my attention had narrowed down to the man standing across the room. Then something inside me gave way, and I ran.

"Daddy!"

I threw myself into his arms hard enough that he staggered half a step to catch me, a sob tearing loose from my throat as I collided against his chest. His arms wrapped around me instantly, and I buried my face against his shirt, breathing in the same warm, earthy smell I remembered from childhood.

"You're alive," I cried, the words muffled against his shirt. "I can't believe you're actually here."

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here." His voice cracked worse than mine had. When I pulled back far enough to see his face, tears were streaming down it.

We stood there a long moment, holding on. He cupped my face in both hands eventually, thumbs wiping at my tears.

"Amber, I—" He shook his head, like the sentence wouldn't hold still long enough to finish. "How are you here? How did you even find us?"

Before I could answer, another voice cut through the moment from a second doorway.

"Dad, what's all the racket?"

I tensed and turned to find a man stepping into the room, tall, broad-shouldered, unmistakably familiar in a way that stole the breath right out of my chest before I'd fully worked out why. Black hair, cropped shorter and neater than either twin wore theirs. The same striking bone structure. Ears tapering to the same sharp points I'd gotten used to seeing on Rowan and Orias. His eyes swirled with color as he stepped further into the light, restless in a way I'd never seen on either twin. His color more orange than purple...

I glanced at Rowan, who'd gone completely still, mouth parted, staring at the newcomer like the floor had opened up under him.

"Cian?" Rowan's voice came out cracked, barely a breath.

Cian froze mid-step. The whole room went still. Then his face crumpled, disbelief giving way to something raw.

"Rowan?" His voice trembled around the name.

Rowan crossed the room in three strides and grabbed his brother by the shoulders, eyes wild in a way I'd genuinely never seen on him before. "Is it really you?"

Cian nodded, tears welling fast now. "It's me."

Rowan pulled him into a hug hard enough to knock the air out of both of them, and I felt every ounce of it travel down our bond, years of grief unraveling all at once.

"I thought you were dead," Rowan said against his shoulder, voice breaking apart.

"I almost was." Cian's hand fisted in the back of Rowan's jacket. "But I'm here."

A second crash sounded from behind us — Orias, one hand still braced against his bleeding ribs, frozen in the doorway.