THE UNRAVELING
Calla’s POV
I used to believe that healing came in silence—quiet rooms, soft moments, whispered promises. But now I knew better. Healing was noisy. It was panic, sirens, news headlines blaring like war drums, and the sound of your own heart crashing against your ribcage as you watched everything you thought you knew burn to ash.
Cassian was recovering. That was the line Dominic had repeated like a benediction when we arrived in Paris. "He’s alive. He’s healing." And yet, that word felt so fragile when I saw him, propped up in that hospital bed like a fallen titan. His skin was pale, and drawn, and bandages wrapped his side like a warning label: Handle with care.
But the man himself? He was still steel beneath the bruises.
“I’m fine,” he said the second I entered, his
