EMMALINE
When I wake, it takes me a moment to understand where I am.
The air feels different, lighter, warmer. The sharp scent of herbs and iron that always clung to Dante’s halls is gone. In its place, there’s pine, woodsmoke, and something faintly familiar.
It’s quiet, too. Not the uneasy silence of captivity, but a peaceful kind.
For a long time, I just stare at the ceiling, tracing the uneven grain of the wood, waiting for my thoughts to catch up. When they do, my heart gives a slow, unsteady thud.
I’m back.
Back in Alexander’s land.
The sheets under me are soft, the kind used in the Alpha wing. My body feels heavy, sluggish. I try to move, but a dull ache travels through my arms and legs, and I give up, sinking back into the pillow.
The door opens softly.
Maggie steps inside,
