When I woke, I thought I was actually dead. It was too quiet, too still. My chest ached, but it moved. Breath came shallow and hesitant, like it wasn’t sure if it still belonged to me. The stone beneath me was slick with condensation, and the cold bit through my shredded clothes, but I wasn’t shaking anymore. That was the first sign that something was different. I should’ve been trembling. Freezing. The night before, I could barely stay conscious long enough to hope I wouldn’t wake again.
But I had.
My fingers brushed my arm, where the wounds had been deepest. The pain was still there—sharp, angry—but not deadly. Not anymore. I could feel something faint humming beneath my skin, like a memory of warmth.
Magic.
His magic.
Kael.
The realization left a sour taste in my mouth. I didn’t
