Chapter 40 - Daryl

"Who dares to trespass on the sovereign land of the—"

I clutched Ian tighter to my chest, my heart thumping at the sight of two men on horseback trotting closer.

"Oh, shit," one of them said, breaking character with a laugh as he leaned forward in the saddle. "Jesus? That you?"

Jesus lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey, fellas."

Ian gasped, his small hands tightening in the front of my shirt as he leaned forward to see.

"Dad, are they knights?" he whispered, his voice high with excitement.

"I dunno, bud," I said softly, glancing at Ella with a small smile. "We'll have to ask, huh?"

One of the men—a tall, broad-shouldered guy with bright eyes and a warm smile—tilted his head, his gaze flicking over our group. "Who are all these people, Paul? And why do you have children with you?"

"Hey, Richard. Nice to see you," Jesus said, stepping closer with that easy calm he always seemed to carry.

The two men carried swords, not guns—gleaming steel that looked like something from a storybook. Ian's eyes went even wider.

"Dad! Look at their swords!" he squeaked, bouncing in my arms like a little spring. "They have to be knights!"

"Who are your friends?" Richard asked.

"This is Rick Grimes, and his people. They're from a like minded community. As for the kids?" Jesus turned, winking at Ian. "I figured Ezekiel's flair would be fun for my little friend to experience. Give him a bit of that magic here in the Kingdom."

"You guys have magic?" Ian asked, squirming in my arms. I held him tighter.

Richard's eyes softened as he looked down at Ian, his grin growing. "Not real magic, kiddo," he said. "But there's beauty here. That's our magic."

Ian's breath caught. "Can I meet the king?" he blurted. "Can I ride your horse? Can I—can I—"

"Slow down, bud," I said, my voice gentle even as my arms locked tighter around him. He was squirming now, desperate to get closer, and I wasn't about to let him bolt off into some fairytale without me.

I felt Ella's hand land on my back, warm and steady. She was watching everything with that quiet, careful look in her eyes—taking it all in, weighing every word and gesture.

"In due time, kid," Richard said with a chuckle as he swung down from the saddle. Ian's eyes lit up at the sight of the horse's hooves thudding softly on the dirt.

I could feel Ian's excitement like a live wire, his whole body wiggling as he begged, "Please, Daddy, I wanna touch it! I wanna see the king!"

I held him tighter, trying not to laugh even as his little hands pushed at my chest. "Not yet, bud," I said. "Let's hear what they've gotta say first."

We stepped back, giving Jesus and Richard room to talk as the rest of our group piled out of the cars. Rick's shoulders were tense, but there was a small spark in his eyes—like even he couldn't help but feel a flicker of wonder at this place.

Richard's smile turned serious. "The car stays outside," he said, his hand resting on the sword at his hip. "And you'll have to hand over your guns."

Rick nodded, his voice calm. "We only have two." He handed his over, along with Carl's.

"Alright then, you'll all follow me," Richard said, turning back with a smile. Then his eyes landed on Ian, whose grin stretched wide across his face—so bright and full of wonder, it almost hurt to look at.

"You wanna pet the horse, kid?" Richard asked, and Ian's head whipped up to look at me, eyes shining like two little stars.

"Please, Dad?" he breathed, so full of hope and excitement I could've said yes to anything in that moment.

I let out a small sigh, my lips twitching into a smile. "Alright, but you gotta be quiet—don't wanna spook her. And you gotta be gentle."

Ella moved with me, her hand brushing my back as she watched every move, every bright smile that lit up our boy's face.

"Okay, Dad," Ian whispered, his breathless excitement making my chest ache.

Richard guided us forward, his horse's pale brown coat gleaming in the afternoon sun. Its mane fell in soft, flowing waves—like something out of a storybook.

"Hold your hand flat, like this," Richard said, demonstrating with his own palm. Ian mimicked him, his little hand shaking just a bit. "I'm gonna put a treat in your hand—she'll take it, but you gotta keep your hand flat the whole time."

"Yes, sir," Ian whispered, his voice trembling with excitement.

Richard placed a sliver of apple in Ian's outstretched hand. I stepped forward, holding Ian steady as the horse's warm breath brushed over his tiny fingers. She sniffed, then took the treat with a gentle nudge, her whiskers tickling his palm.

Ian let out a breathless giggle. "It tickles!" he squeaked, his whole face lighting up.

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face—goddamn, that smile. It was everything.

"Now she'll let you pet her," Richard said softly. "Just keep your hand flat, brush down her nose like this..." He demonstrated with slow, steady strokes.

Ian's brow furrowed in concentration as he reached out, his small fingers brushing down the horse's warm, soft nose.

"She's so soft," he whispered, his voice full of pure wonder.

Richard grinned. "She is. Y'know, if your dad says it's okay, I can take you to the stables later—show you the other horses, too. After you meet the king, of course."

Ian's eyes went wide, and he turned to look at me, his hand still stroking down the horse's nose. "Can we, Dad? Please?"

I glanced at Ella, who was already biting her lip, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Well, as long as it's okay with Mom—"

"Yes!" she blurted, her voice bright. She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing. "I mean... yes. We'd love that. Thank you, Richard."

Richard's grin grew. "Now... how about a ride, cowboy?"

Ian's whole body went stiff with excitement. He looked at me, his little hands gripping my shoulders.

"Not right now," I said gently. "This is Richard's horse—and I'd rather you stay with me."

His shoulders drooped, his bottom lip sticking out just a little.

But then Richard spoke up again. "What if you ride with him? Just a short walk."

"I'll do it!" Ella said suddenly, her excitement matching Ian's. She gently tugged Ruby out of the wrap and handed her to me.

I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped my chest. God help me—I couldn't tell who was more excited: my son or my wife.

"You sure, El?" Carl teased from behind us. "That thing's triple your height."

"Shut your mouth, Grimes," she shot back, her eyes sparkling. She stepped up, her chin high and her shoulders square. "I'm ready."

Richard smiled, his hands steady as he lifted Ian up into the saddle. Ella moved forward, letting Richard help her mount, and I felt that sharp edge of jealousy flicker in my gut—mine. She was mine.

But I swallowed it down, watching as she wrapped one arm around Ian, the other holding the saddle horn.

"I'll walk alongside you—hold the reins," Richard said, his voice calm. "You two just hold on."

Ella nodded, her fingers brushing over Ian's shoulders, and I watched them go, my heart beating like a war drum in my chest.

It was a picture I'd keep forever—Ella and Ian, bright and alive, riding together into the sun. A perfect moment in a world that didn't offer many.

I stood back a little as Richard led the horse forward, one hand steady on the reins. Ella had her arm wrapped tight around Ian, her chin lifted, her eyes bright with a wonder I hadn't seen in... hell, I didn't know how long.

Ian was practically bursting, his laughter spilling out in little gasps as he looked around like the whole world had cracked open just for him. Ella's head tilted down, her smile soft and wide as she whispered something in his ear—something that made him giggle even harder.

I walked alongside them, my boots crunching over the dirt, Ruby's little weight warm and solid against my chest. Her fingers curled in my shirt, her eyes wide as she took it all in—her mama, her brother, this giant horse moving so slow and sure through the sunlit yard.

God, I couldn't take my eyes off them.

Ella's hair glowed in the late-afternoon light, that soft brown turned almost gold. Ian's cheeks were flushed pink, his hands gripping the saddle horn tight, but there was no fear in him—just excitement. Just that pure, wild joy that only kids get to feel.

And Ella... she was looking at him like he was her whole world. Like she'd walk through fire for that smile on his face.

I felt my chest tighten up, the kind of ache that was all love and fear and pride tangled together.

How many of these moments would we get? How many times would I get to see them this happy, this safe?

Ruby shifted in my arms, her little face pressed into my collarbone, and I kissed the top of her soft head, breathing in the warm, sweet smell of her.

This, I thought. This is everything.

The world was still broken. The Saviors were still out there, waiting like wolves in the dark. But right now? My wife was smiling. My son was laughing. My baby girl was safe in my arms.

Richard shot me a look over the horse's back, a quiet little grin that said he understood.

"Your boy's a natural," he said, his voice low.

I let out a small breath of a laugh, one hand rubbing Ruby's back as I kept pace with the horse. "He's always been brave. Gets it from his mama."

Ella glanced over at me then, her smile soft and secret, and for a second—just a second—it was like the world had stopped turning.

I held her gaze, my hand settling over Ruby's back, and I let myself believe—just for that heartbeat—that there was still something good left in this world.

Something worth fighting for.

Something worth living for.

We walked for a few minutes, winding deeper into the heart of the Kingdom. Richard finally reached up and lifted Ian from the saddle, setting him down with a quiet, fatherly pat on the shoulder.

But then he reached for Ella—his hands lifted to help her down, like he had any right to touch what was mine.

I felt that old burn in my chest, sharp and possessive, and I didn't even think about it. I passed Ruby off to Ian—trusting him, even though he was just a kid—and jogged up to Ella's side, shooting Richard a look that said exactly what I was thinking: back the fuck off.

Richard's eyes flicked wide for just a second, and he raised his hands in surrender, stepping back from my wife like he knew he'd crossed a line.

Ella twisted in the saddle, rolling her eyes at me—but she didn't argue. She leaned down, her small hands landing on my shoulders. I wrapped my hands around her waist and pulled her down, crushing her against my chest. Her legs locked tight around my waist, her breath catching in a little gasp that made me smirk.

I cupped her ass, my fingers spreading wide, digging in just enough to remind us both that she was mine. My other hand slid up her back, pressing her closer, and I felt that ache in my chest ease a little—this was where she belonged.

"Enjoy the ride, darlin'?" I murmured, my voice low and rough as I pressed my mouth to her neck.

"It was so much fun," she giggled, her smile bright and full of wonder.

I squeezed her ass hard enough to make her squeak, though not nearly as hard as I wanted to. She just laughed, her face bright with that excitement she never lost.

"I never got to ride the horse at the prison," she said softly, her hands resting on my shoulders. "I was too pregnant."

I lowered her to the ground slowly, not willing to let go just yet. "Well, maybe I'll find one out there. Bring it back to Alexandria for you." My lips found hers, hungry for that bright, sweet smile. I kissed her deep, my hand tightening around her waist.

She kissed me back, just as eager, and I let myself get lost in her for a moment—just a breath, just a heartbeat.

Then I pulled back and laced our fingers together as we all walked deeper into the Kingdom.

The place was... beautiful. People everywhere—planting gardens, welding scrap into weapons, even a blacksmith working in the sun. It felt... real. Like something out of a dream.

"They have the numbers," Michonne said, her eyes sharp as she took in the sights.

"But can they fight?" Rosita asked.

"Oh, they can fight," Jesus said with a quiet confidence.

"Maybe," Rick murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.

We watched a handful of men jog past in armor that looked like it belonged in some old-time storybook—breastplates, helmets, swords on their hips. It was surreal, but it made my heart thump in my chest. Maybe this was what it would take to finally push back against the Saviors.

I felt Ian's small hand slip into mine, his eyes wide as he watched the horses being led away. My heart gave a little lurch.

My boy. Even here—when the world was still full of monsters and death—he was still just a kid, full of wonder.

Then Tara's voice cut through the moment. "Morgan?" she said, surprised.

I turned and saw him standing there—Morgan, quiet and calm like he always was.

Shows how much I paid attention to the world outside my family. I hadn't even realized he wasn't in Alexandria.

Everyone gathered around, greeting him, while Richard asked how we knew him.

"You brought the kids?" Morgan asked, his brow creasing.

I shrugged, my grip tightening around Ian's hand. "Jesus wanted Ian to meet the king," I said gruffly.

I let go of Ian and Ella as they stepped forward, hanging back with Rick and Morgan.

"Did you find Carol?" Rick asked, his voice low.

Morgan nodded slowly. "I did... but then she left."

"Left?" I asked, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"She wasn't happy with me following her," he said. "She wanted to get away from everyone—away from us. But she was shot when I found her. Just a graze. These people here... they have doctors." He paused, glancing around the Kingdom like he was still trying to believe it. "They're good."

"Was it them?" I asked. We both knew who I meant.

"Yeah." Morgan's shoulders sagged. "She crossed one of them, and he followed her. Tried to kill her. I... I stopped him. I had to. I killed him." His jaw tightened as he looked back at Rick. "She was here. She got help. But now she's gone."

Rick didn't say a word as we followed Richard to an old auditorium, the sound of heavy chains rattling somewhere ahead. My gut twisted tight, and I dropped my hand to the handle of my knife, half out of habit, half out of that low hum of warning in my chest.

"What the hell is that?" I muttered, my voice low and wary.

Jesus didn't answer me. Instead, he crouched in front of Ian, his voice calm and bright. "Alright, little dude. You're about to meet the king and see something really cool. But you gotta be cool too, okay? You gotta listen to your mom and dad."

Ian's eyes went wide, but he nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Okay! I promise!"

Jesus straightened, his hand on Ian's shoulder for just a second before he led us inside. I couldn't see past him as he walked, that damn rattling getting louder with every step. My pulse picked up, my mind trying to figure out what the hell we were about to walk into.

Then a deep, animalistic growl cut through the air.

I felt every muscle in my body lock up. My hand shot out, grabbing Jesus by the shoulder and shoving him to the side. My eyes locked on the source of the sound—

And my heart just... stopped.

"What the fuck."

The tiger was massive, orange and white fur shifting over muscles like liquid steel. She was chained, yeah—but her head turned slow, those big gold eyes fixed right on us.

I didn't even think. I scooped Ian up with one arm and shoved Ella behind me with the other, my whole body braced to fight, to kill, to protect.

The rest of the group crowded around, jaws dropped, eyes wide.

"Are these new allies you've brought me, Jesus?" The man sitting on the stage—the king, I guessed—spoke with a rich, calm voice, like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Indeed, Your Majesty," Jesus said, not a hint of fear in his voice.

"This is—" Jesus turned, taking in our shocked faces, and smirked a little. "Oh, right. I didn't want to spoil the surprise. Kinda forgot to mention the tiger."

As if on cue, the damn beast let out another roar that rattled my teeth.

I felt Ella's fingers tighten in the back of my shirt, and I clutched Ian tighter against my chest, my voice low and dangerous. "You thought a tiger was a good surprise for my fucking kid? Are you outta your goddamn mind?"

Jesus just shrugged, calm as anything. "I would have killed to see a tiger up close and personal at his age."

"So we'll take that as a yes—you're fucking crazy," Ella hissed from behind me.

"She's on a leash," Jesus said, waving a hand like that meant anything.

I leaned closer, my voice a growl. "I swear to God, if anything happens, I'll kill you. And I'll feed you to the tiger myself."

Jesus just nodded, and I followed—reluctantly—because the kid was still vibrating with excitement and Ella was curious in that way she always was.

And even though every protective bone in my body was screaming, I couldn't help it...

There was something about seeing that tiger.Not behind glass at a zoo.Not some picture in a book.Real.Alive.Dangerous as hell.

It made my chest go tight, and my hand flexed on Ian's back.

Goddamn.

Even in a world like this... there were still things that could make you feel like a kid again.

"This is Rick Grimes, the leader of Alexandria," Jesus said, stopping just before the crude wooden chair that served as King Ezekiel's throne. "And these are some of his people."

It wasn't much of a throne—just planks of wood nailed together and draped with a tattered cloth. But the way Ian looked at it? Hell, it might as well have been made of solid gold.

His little jaw dropped, eyes wide and shining as I stopped at the edge of the first row of seats, holding him tight against me. No way in hell was I putting him down—not when there was a live tiger ten feet away and not a scrap of glass or steel between us.

"I welcome you all to the Kingdom, good travelers," King Ezekiel said, his voice warm and rolling, like some old-time preacher. "Now... what brings you to these fair lands? Why do you seek an audience with the King?"

Ian's breath caught in his throat, his voice bursting out before he could stop it. "I've never met a king before!" he said, his little face shining.

Ezekiel's attention fixed on him, his expression softening. "Well," he said, leaning forward in his chair, "it is quite pleasant to meet you, young sir. Tell me—are you here to train as one of my squires? Or perhaps... a knight?"

Ian giggled, a sound that made my chest tighten in the best kind of way. "I'm not a knight," he said shyly. "I'm just Ian."

Ezekiel's smile grew, that quiet kindness radiating from him. "Well, young Ian," he said, "it is a pleasure indeed to make your acquaintance."

"What's that mean?" Ian asked, cocking his head just so—like he was a little me, and Merle too. My hand moved up to rub his back, that quiet pride blooming in my chest.

"Friends," Ezekiel said. "It means... friends, young one."

Rick cleared his throat then, his voice low and steady as he stepped forward. "King Ezekiel," he said, "Alexandria, Hilltop, and the Kingdom—we all have something in common. We all... serve the Saviors."

I felt Richard's head snap up, his eyes jumping to the king. Ezekiel's smile faded, his lips flattening out as that quiet calm slipped just a little.

"Alexandria has fought them once before," Rick said, his shoulders squaring. "We thought we'd taken out the threat... but we didn't know then what we know now. We only took out one outpost." He let out a slow breath, his hand curling into a fist at his side. "We know you have a deal with them. We know you know what they are—how they rule with fear and violence."

Ezekiel's face didn't change, but something in the room shifted—like the air got tight around us.

"Your Majesty," Jesus said carefully, "I only told them of—"

"Our deal with the Saviors is not known among my people," Ezekiel interrupted, his voice suddenly harder. "For good reason. We only trusted you because you told us of the Hilltop's struggles. We didn't expect you to share that trust with others."

"We can help each other!" Jesus insisted.

"Do not interrupt the king," a man in a red robe said sharply, his voice low and dangerous.

Ezekiel's gaze moved back to Jesus. "We brought you into our confidence. Why did you break it?"

Jesus hesitated, his weight shifting under the weight of that gaze. "Because I want you to hear Rick's plans."

The king straightened a little, his hand tightening on the chain that led to the tiger. "And what plans have you, Rick Grimes of Alexandria?"

Rick didn't flinch. "We came to ask you to fight with us," he said simply. "To fight for freedom. For all of us."

For a moment, silence filled the hall, the weight of it pressing down on us like a storm about to break.

Ezekiel let out a slow breath, his fingers brushing over the tiger's head as she shifted beside him. "What you ask," he said finally, his voice calm but heavy, "is grave."

Michonne stepped forward, her hand wrapping around Rick's arm, and I had to fight the cringe crawling up the back of my neck. It still felt... weird. Seeing them together like that. Michonne—she was a force of nature, steel and fire and calm. And Rick... well, he was Rick. Half the time he was a good man. The other half, he was just an ass.

But even so, she stood with him, strong and steady.

"Several of our people—good people—were slaughtered by the Saviors," she said, her voice even and sure.

"Who?" Morgan asked, his voice quiet but sharp.

"Abraham, Glenn, Spencer, Olivia. And now Eugene's been taken," Rosita said, her words biting. "You still gonna say you were right? That they deserved to live?"

Morgan's face went tight, his eyes dark and sad. "No," he said, the word soft and heavy. "I'm just... I'm real sorry they're gone."

Rick's jaw shifted, the tendons in his neck standing out like wires. "Negan murdered Glenn and Abraham," he said, his voice low, like he had to choke the words out. "He beat them to death."

"He terrorized the Hilltop," Sasha said, her anger spiking, her voice rising. "Set loose walkers on innocent people—just to make a point."

"I used to think the deal was something we could live with," Jesus said. "A lot of us did. But that's changing. So let's change the world, Your Majesty."

The words settled over the room like a funeral shroud.

My arms tightened around Ian's small shoulders. My mind flickered back—Glenn's laughter, Abraham's shit-eating grin. Gone. Just... gone.

I could feel Ella at my back, her hand light on my waist, and I knew she was thinking of them too—Glenn especially. The man who'd tried to keep her safe.

I shifted my weight, the leather of my vest creaking, my hand finding the hilt of my knife just to feel something solid.

This was what we were fighting for. Not just survival. But... something better. Something that didn't come easy, but had to be taken.

"I want to be honest about what we're asking," Rick said, his voice steady even as his eyes flicked around the room. "My people are strong. We've gone up against a lot. We've had to fight tooth and nail for everything we've got. But... there's not enough of us." He shook his head, his free hand finding Michonne's where it rested on his arm, fingers lacing together like he needed her strength. "We don't have enough guns. Not enough weapons, period."

I shifted, the weight of Ian in my arms grounding me, even as my mind itched for my crossbow. Lost to Dwight. Gone for good.

Richard spoke up next, his voice firm. "We have people. And weapons," he said, his eyes on the king. "If we strike first—and we strike together—we can beat 'em."

Ezekiel didn't flinch. He just looked at Richard, that same calm, measured expression. Listening. Waiting.

"Your Majesty," Richard said again, his voice lower, pleading. "No more waiting for things to get worse than we can handle. We can set things right. The time is now."

The king looked past him, his eyes landing on Morgan, who leaned against the wall, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Shit," Ella whispered behind me.

I reached my hand back, resting it on her hip—silent, but begging her to hold her tongue. I loved that mouth on her, but it could start a war if she wasn't careful.

Morgan blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Me?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Speak," Ezekiel said.

Morgan swallowed hard. "People will die," he said finally. "A lot of people. And not just the Saviors." He shook his head. "If we can find another way—"

"Jesus fucking Christ," Ella hissed. My hand tightened on her hip, my fingers digging in.

Morgan's voice didn't waver. "We have to try. Maybe it's just about Negan—just capturing him, holding him. Maybe—"

The tiger's chain rattled as Ezekiel stood, tall and solemn. "The hour grows late," he said, his voice deep, the weight of it filling the whole damn room. "Rick Grimes of Alexandria, you have given the king much to ponder."

Rick didn't look away. He took a breath. "When I was a kid, my mother told me a story," he said. "There was a road to a kingdom, and there was a rock in the road. People avoided it, broke wheels, broke legs. Lost everything they carried."

The room went silent. Even the tiger stilled, those gold eyes locked on Rick like she was listening too.

"That's what happened to a little girl," Rick said. "The beer her family brewed fell and broke. They had nothing left. She cried, but she dug at that rock anyway. She pulled it out of the dirt with her bare hands—until they bled. And when she looked in that hole... there was gold."

Ian's little voice broke the quiet, soft and full of wonder. "She won?"

Ezekiel's eyes landed on him—my boy—and for the first time, the king's mask cracked, just a little.

"Exactly," Rick said, his voice soft as he smiled at Ian. "The king put that rock there because he knew whoever dug it out deserved a reward. Deserved a better life."

Ezekiel looked at Richard, then at Morgan. And he nodded, slow and solemn.

"I invite you all to sup with us," he said. "Stay until the morn."

Rick's jaw tightened. "We need to get back home."

"I'll give my decree in the morning," Ezekiel said, slamming his staff twice against the wooden floor.

I looked at Rick, meeting his eyes as he gave a slow nod.

And for the first time in a long time... it felt like maybe—just maybe—there was a chance.

Ezekiel's smile didn't waver as he turned his gaze to me, his voice still rich and warm. "Now," he said, inclining his head just a bit, "would you like to greet Shiva, young Ian?"

Ian gasped, his whole little body wiggling against my hold. His small fists clenched in excitement as he leaned forward, bouncing in my arms like he might just take flight if I didn't have him pinned tight.

"Can I? Can I? Can I, Dad, please?" he begged, his wide brown eyes shining.

I glared up at Ezekiel, my jaw tight. "I ain't puttin' my kid in danger," I growled, my voice low and certain.

Ezekiel didn't flinch. "Fear not," he said calmly, his eyes soft but sure. "Shiva knows not to harm the young. So long as he stands at my side—and is respectful—she shall leave him unharmed."

Ella shifted beside me, her hand sliding up my arm, her own eyes bright with wonder but edged in fear. "Daryl..." she murmured, her voice trembling just a bit. "It's a tiger."

I looked at her—really looked at her—and saw the shimmer in her eyes. She wanted to see it. She was scared, but she was also... curious.

Ian twisted in my hold, his breath coming fast. "Please, Dad. I'll be careful, I promise. I'll be super careful."

I tightened my grip on him, feeling that old ache in my chest. My job was to protect him. Always. And the thought of that massive cat hurting him—

But when I looked into his eyes—so damn bright and hopeful—it was like staring at Ella's eyes. That same spark, that same need to see the world even when it was terrifying.

"Alright," I said gruffly. "But I'm not lettin' you outta my arms."

Ezekiel's smile widened, and he held out a hand. "Come then, young Ian. Greet Shiva."

I stepped forward, my boots heavy on the wooden floor. The tiger watched us with those huge, molten-gold eyes, her massive head lowering slightly as we approached.

Ella's breath caught beside me, her hand gripping my vest. I could feel her heart hammering against my shoulder, but I could also feel the way her breath quickened in wonder.

"She's beautiful," Ella whispered, her eyes wide, her lips parted in that little half-smile she got when something caught her off-guard.

Ian leaned forward in my arms, his little fingers fisting in my vest. "Hi, Shiva," he whispered, his voice breathless with awe.

Shiva's tail twitched once, the thick, striped muscle of it sweeping across the floor. She let out a low rumble that should've rattled me to my bones—but Ian just giggled.

"She said hi back," he said in a stage whisper, his eyes wide.

Ezekiel's smile turned proud. "She did indeed."

I could feel Ella's hand slide up to the back of my neck, her thumb tracing slow, shaky circles there. "You seein' this?" she murmured, her voice full of wonder.

"Yeah," I said, my throat tight. "I see it."

I kept one arm locked around Ian, the other braced at my side—my entire body coiled tight. My heart was hammering, my mind screaming to grab my boy and get the hell out of there.

But the way he was smiling... the way Ella was smiling...

For a moment, just a moment, the world felt almost... magical.

And I let him lean forward, just a bit closer to that living, breathing miracle.

Shiva's tail swished again, a low, rumbling purr vibrating in the air as she leaned her massive head forward, her whiskers brushing against Ian's outstretched hand.

Ella gasped softly, her hand tightening on my shoulder. "She's... she's letting him touch her," she whispered.

Ian's fingers trembled, but he didn't flinch. He was too focused, too damn brave—just like his mama. "Hi, Shiva," he said again, his little voice full of wonder.

The tiger's massive head tilted, and she blinked those heavy-lidded golden eyes at him. Her breath ruffled his hair, and he just... beamed.

"She likes me," Ian whispered, looking back at me with a grin that lit up his whole face.

I huffed a breath, torn between wanting to haul him away and just... letting him have this. Letting him have something good in this messed-up world.

"Yeah, kid," I said, my voice rough. "Looks like she does."

Ezekiel watched us, his smile broadening. "Shiva is a creature of great spirit. She senses the hearts of those around her—especially the young. She sees the courage in your boy, Daryl Dixon."

I grunted, my jaw tight, but I couldn't help the way my chest swelled. My boy—our boy—was fearless, even in the face of something that could tear him apart in a heartbeat.

Ella stepped closer, her hand slipping from my shoulder to brush against Ian's back. Her eyes were bright, a soft smile pulling at her lips. "Can I... can I touch her too?" she asked softly.

Ezekiel nodded, his hand gentle on Shiva's flank. "If you move slowly, and with respect, she will accept your greeting."

Ella hesitated, then reached out, her fingers trembling. She stroked down the tiger's thick fur, her breath catching in her throat. "She's so... soft," she murmured.

"She's beautiful," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ella's eyes flicked up to mine, that soft smile still there. "She really is."

For a moment, the three of us stood there—me holding Ian, Ella with her hand on the tiger's head—and the world felt... lighter. Like all the shit we'd been through didn't matter. Like maybe, just maybe, there were still moments of wonder left for us.

Shiva let out a deep, throaty rumble, then nudged her massive head against Ian's chest. He giggled, his little hands patting her fur.

"Thank you, Shiva," he whispered.

Ezekiel inclined his head, his voice warm. "She says you're welcome, young knight."

I held Ian a little tighter, my thumb brushing against his back, and let out a slow breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"Alright, that's enough," I said gruffly, my voice thick. "Come on, bud. Let's give the tiger some space."

Ian pouted but didn't argue, resting his head on my shoulder as I stepped back. Ella slipped her hand into mine, her fingers twining with mine as we moved away from that living miracle.

And for the first time in a long time... I let myself believe that maybe we could find a little bit of good in this world.