Page 64 of Saving Her Dragon

The sight of the hair ribbon punched him right in the chest, a sudden, heavy wave of raw emotion catching him off guard. That tiny, ordinary piece of fabric had started the entire nightmare. It had been the first breadcrumb, the first confirmation that his body was performing a mission he couldn't control. Now, it was just sitting there in the sunlight.

The stolen objects had returned when the psychic architecture collapsed. Exactly how they had made the journey back from whatever impossible space Leviathan's road had occupied was something Ginnie intended to study for a very long time.

Garrett didn't particularly care.

Carrick had his tie tack. Ginnie had her fountain pen. Grey's pocketknife was back where it belonged.

And Sydney's blue ribbon was sitting safely in the sunlight, right alongside her hairbrush. How had he forgotten about the hairbrush?

The family had reclaimed its history.

"You checking inventory again?"

Sydney’s lazy, sleep-thickened voice brushed against his shoulder. She didn't open her eyes, but a soft, contented smile was playing on her lips as she traced a light circle over his chest.

Garrett cleared the gravel from his throat, his hand sliding down to tangle in her hair. "Maybe."

"My hairbrush is still here," she volunteered, her voice dropping into a playful murmur.

"Good," Garrett replied.

"Shoes too."

"Excellent."

"Underwear?"

Garrett turned his head on the pillow, leveling her with a dry, narrow-eyed smirk as her blue eyes finally blinked open, gleaming with a wicked, beautiful mischief. "Still accounted for," she grinned, propping her chin on his chest.

Then, the playfulness slowly faded from her expression, her features softening into something deeply analytical. She looked at him closely, then slowly nodded. "You slept."

Garrett looked back at the digital clock. "Apparently."

"All night," Sydney whispered, her thumb tracing his jawline. She leaned up, pressing a warm, lingering kiss to his cheek before delivering the piece of data that mattered more than any monitor reading. "You never left me, Garrett."

The weight of the words settled into his chest. He had slept through 3:42. And for the first time since his rescue from the cells, he could remember exactly what had occurred during those thirty seconds: nothing. Because there had been no thirty seconds. No missing time, no hidden compartment, and no door. He had just slept.

Garrett went inward, dropping his awareness down to the baseline of their shared soul. “How was your night, Han?”

The Dragon King shifted within his mind, letting out a long, theatrical yawn that vibrated through Garrett's bones. “Boring as hell, Lad.”

Garrett froze. “Boring?”

“Aye,” Han rumbled, a deep, contented purr rolling through the bond. “No walls to claw at. No emerald smoke. Just eight hours of absolute, uninterrupted silence. Best damn night I've had in decades.”

A sudden sound rumbled up from Garrett’s throat, bursting out into the quiet bedroom before he could even think to contain the strategic barrier.

He laughed.

It was a real, full-throated, unburdened laugh that echoed against the wooden walls, a beautiful, violent release of every ounce of shame and fear he had carried across the threshold of Heatherton Homestead. He pulled Sydney tightly against his chest, burying his face in her blond curls as she giggled beneath him, the raw joy of the moment completely rewriting the terrain.

An hour later, the reality of the victory required a final, practical realignment.

Walking up to the main house for breakfast, Garrett found his brother standing out on Carrick’s wide front porch. Grey was leaning against the wooden railing, a dual-cab truck already idling down by the gravel drive, packed for his and Star's return trip to Florida.

There was no giant emotional speech. They were Dragon Guardsmen. They didn't do long-winded vulnerability.

Grey didn't turn around as Garrett’s boots hit the porch steps. He simply reached into his canvas jacket pocket, pulled out the heavy, brass-cased folding pocketknife, and extended it backward over his shoulder.