For the first time since the separation, Ethan allowed himself a breath of relief. Not just because the lions remembered her, but because he saw, clear as daylight, that Bella was safe. Even in this storm, even in this wild convergence of memory and instinct, she was not prey, not in danger. She was family.
By dawn, the storm had passed. Broken branches littered the paths, and staff moved like survivors, each carrying the memory of what they had seen in the lion house. Bella lay curled in the straw, the lions pressed around her in calm belonging.