Chapter 156
LUCIAN’S P.O.V.
The chirping of birds roused me from the most peaceful sleep I’d had in years. For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the sounds of the forest—the rustle of leaves in the cool morning breeze, the soft gurgle of a nearby stream. Beneath me, the bed—decorated, no doubt, with my pack’s annoyingly thorough sense of tradition—was surrounded by the faint floral scent of Teresa’s hair and the earthy tang of the woods. the woods—
But something was… different.
A soft golden light pierced through my eyelids. I frowned. That wasn’t possible. I hadn’t seen light—let alone anything else—for the last eighteen months. My heart pounded as I hesitated to open my eyes fully, terrified this was some cruel trick. But curiosity won out. Slowly, cautiously, I let my lids flutter open.
And then I saw.
Everything.
My breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought I was dreaming. The soft glow of dawn painted the forest in hues of gold and green, every leaf shimmering with dew. My heart thundered as I turned to look at her—my mate, my wife, my Teresa.
Her dark brown curls cascaded over the pillow, a wild mix of silk and shadow, tempting fingers to trace through them. The rhythm of her breath, soft and steady, held me captive. And her face—Gods, her face. The elegant line of her jaw, the slight parting of her lips, the lingering flush on her cheeks from the night we’d shared—it struck me like a bolt of lightning. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was otherworldly. Draped in the sheet we’d tangled under the full moon, she looked like a goddess who had descended to earth for me alone.
“Ares,” I murmured, my voice barely cutting through the pounding in my ears. “Tell me I’m awake. Tell me this is real p>
Ares stirred, his voice a low rumble in my mind. “You’re awake, Lucian. And yes, it’s real. We can see again. We see it all p>
A laugh bubbled out of me—low, disbelieving, and a little hysterical. I wanted to howl, to leap up and tell the whole world that Lucian Blackwood, Alpha of the Moonpeak Pack, could see again. But first, Teresa. I had to wake her. She needed to know.
“Teresa,” I murmured, brushing my fingers gently against her cheek. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft. “Wake up, love p>
She groaned softly, burrowing further into the sheets. “Five more minutes,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
I chuckled, the sound vibrating with the kind of joy I hadn’t felt in years. “Teresa, this is important p>
“Nope,” she muttered, pulling the sheet over her head. “Not unless the forest is on fire p>
I tugged the sheet down, exposing her face to the morning light. “Teresa, I can see p>
That got her attention. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at me, still groggy. “What?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“I said, I can see,” I repeated, my voice breaking on the last word. “I can see you p>
Her eyes widened, and she sat up abruptly, clutching the sheet to her chest. “What do you mean, you can see p>
“I mean exactly that!” I laughed, running a hand through my hair. “The blindness is gone. I woke up, and—” I gestured wildly around us. “I can see the forest, the sky, you p>
She stared at me, her wide eyes brimming with disbelief, her lips parting as though struggling to form words. Then, like a dam breaking, tears spilled down her cheeks, glistening like morning dew. Without hesitation, she launched herself into my arms, clutching me tightly as if letting go might shatter the fragile reality before us. Her voice broke as she choked out my name. “Lucian… You can really see p>
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of the moment. I buried my face in the warmth of her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and home. “And you’re even more beautiful than I ever remembered p>
Her laughter escaped in uneven bursts, a melody of joy woven with disbelief. “This… this must be the gift,” she stammered, pulling back just enough to search my face. Her tear-streaked smile was radiant. “The moon goddess… she told me in my dream that she would grant us a blessing p>
Emotion swelled in my chest, a tidal wave of gratitude and wonder. I cradled her face in my hands, my thumbs tracing away the streaks of tears that etched trails down her soft skin. “Then I owe her everything,” I said, my voice firm yet tender. “Because this—seeing you, holding you—this is everything I ever wanted and more p>
Time seemed to still as we stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace. The world around us faded into nothingness, leaving only her: her laughter, her tears, her touch. Her golden eyes shimmered with unspoken words, and I couldn’t stop marveling at how the sunlight caressed her skin like it was drawn to her. It was like witnessing a masterpiece come to life.
As the golden hues of morning gave way to the brighter light of day, I sighed and pulled her closer. “I need to see the pack,” I said softly. “I need to see our babies. Teresa, I’ve missed so much p>
Her smile was tender as she brushed a stray curl from my face and pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. “Then let’s go home, Alpha,” she murmured.
We moved in sync, dressing quickly but savoring the moment, as though every second was part of a newfound rhythm we dared not disrupt. Just as we were about to leave, I caught her hand, halting her steps. She turned to me, her expression curious. “What is it?” she asked.
“There’s one thing,” I said, my voice low, carrying the weight of unspoken mischief.
Her brow arched in question. “What p>
“Don’t tell anyone about my sight,” I said, my tone taking on a playful edge.
She tilted her head, her curiosity deepening. “Why not? This is monumental, Lucian. The pack will want to celebrate p>
A smirk curled my lips as I leaned down, my breath brushing her ear. “Because I want to see the look on Rylan’s face when I sneak up on him. He’s been far too smug lately p>
Teresa burst into laughter, the sound light and musical as she swatted my chest. “You’re impossible p>
“And you love me for it,” I replied with a wink, my grin broadening.
Her laughter echoed through the forest as we made our way back to the pack house, hand in hand. My heart was lighter than it had been in years, and for the first time in a long time, I felt whole.