The snowstorm stopped falling a couple of days ago.
Sunlight flickered, unobstructed through the window to the cottage room. It was the middle of the day, but the hearth was still it.
Aria laid on the bed with a smile on her face. She raised her quilt further, enjoying the warmth it provided.
It had been about a week since the attack on her by Ronan. From that day, Lucien had nursed her back to full health.
She had healed faster than she ever thought she could. Her healing was still not as much as a full blood werewolf, but Aria could tell that it had grown much better.
That wasn’t the only other thing that had changed since that day. For two days after the attack, Aria could barely walk and had to be fed directly by Lucien.
It wasn’t that her body was injured, it was her mind. He
