Rowan's P.O.V.
My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, everything felt hazy, like waking up underwater. The dim light of the infirmary stung, and a dull ache rippled through my limbs, reminding me I was alive—barely.
I shifted, testing my body. To my surprise, there was no searing pain, only a deep exhaustion that clung to me like a shadow. The healers had done their work. My wounds were gone, but the memory of them lingered.
A healer noticed my movement and rushed to my side, her gentle hands pressing against my shoulder to keep me from rising too quickly. “Easy, Beta Rowan. You’ve been through a lot.”
“How long?” My voice was hoarse, rasping like I hadn’t spoken in days. Weeks, maybe.
“Almost five days,” she answered softly. “Your body needed time to recover.”
Five days. The word
