They're both broken. Shattered and put together and full of jagged edges. Grief that could never truly be forgotten. Suffering that could only be pushed aside for the sake of others, for the sake of doing what needed to be done.

This wasn't just another vampire or another dhampir. This was Tess. This was his wife and Harry couldn't bear to hear that soft sob from her. He reaches out slowly, hesitating for both her sake and for his, and draws her into his arms. It didn't matter that they were from two different worlds. She was his. She would always be his just as much as Harrison would always belong to her. Worlds didn't matter. Vampires and hunters - none of it mattered.

"Everything that is good and right in this world and any other," he promises, cheek resting in her hair. She is his light. She always will be.