The light of dawn was slow, creeping across the sky above Dawnveil’s healer’s den. The storm that had ravaged the mountains hadn’t quite reached here, but its lingering presence hung in the air, heavy and full of anticipation. Outside, the sound of children laughing and playing carried through the breeze, reminding Aria of simpler times. But within the walls of the den, everything felt still, held in the tender space between life and death, a fragile waiting room where everything could change.
Aria sat on the narrow cot by the hearth, her hands protectively cradling her growing belly. The events of the previous night were still fresh in her body—the frantic hours of surgery, Xander’s broken, bloody body beneath her hands, the moment when he had awoken, whispering her name with words she h
