SELENEA’S POV
Herbs burned in the shaman’s hut, filling the air with a sharp, earthy scent as I sat on the floor, my leathers creaked against the woven mat, and tears traced silent paths down my cheeks. Lukas lay still, his body stretched on a mat, his dark hair clung to his pale forehead, and his chest rose faintly, a soft glow pulsed around him from the shaman’s chants. My hands trembled in my lap, my eyes fixed on his face, and my heart ached with fear that he might not wake.
Callan stood beside me, his hand rested on my shoulder, his shirt was damp with sweat, and his voice was low as he whispered, urging me to stay calm. I nodded, my throat tight, but my tears kept falling, the weight of losing Lukas pressed against my chest, and the shaman’s rhythmic chants filled the dim room, he
