Leaning wearily on the door jamb with one hand, Faelan lifted his head when the door flew open, and beyond it stood Padma, safe and whole and perfect.
He couldn't breathe. She was dripping wet, scrubbed clean, and looking at him as if her heart hadn't beaten until she saw his face. He heard her voice shake, took in expanses of soft, golden skin with a single glance, and before he could even contemplate what he was about to do, surged through the doorway, catching her face with both hands and kissing her as if she was the very air he breathed.