Ava’s POV
I hunched over the table, hands steady despite my racing heart, handling the Silverbloom flower with the same practiced motions from my old Alchemy lessons, muscle memory kicking in like it never left. The other healers hovered around, eyes wide with curiosity and confusion, tracking every twist and turn I made, not quite grasping how crucial this all was.
My inner wolf perked up, catching a subtle scent—a werewolf, fresh in the room, lining up with Zane’s hazy mention of a visitor. My gut screamed Lucy, her icy stare from the gathering flashing back, but I shoved it down, zeroing in on the flower, my fingers shaky.
I snuck glances at Zane, his wasted body slumped on the bed, his features so much like Liam’s it stabbed at me—same chiseled jaw, same deep eyes. If Steve was onto
