IRIS’ POV
Three days had passed, and Blake still hadn’t woken up.
Every morning I sat beside his bed, waiting for something — a twitch, a sound, a breath stronger than the one before. His chest rose and fell in the same slow rhythm, his face calm, his skin warm. He looked peaceful, too peaceful, and that scared me more than anything.
Clara kept telling me to rest, but how could I? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him falling again — the light, the explosion, the way his body went still.
That moment haunted me.
Now, he was here, lying on clean sheets, his wounds completely healed, his skin brighter than it had been in weeks. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was just sleeping.
I reached out, brushing my fingers over his hand. It felt solid, warm, alive. But it wasn’t enough.
“H
