Darius's POV
I paced the corridor while the healer worked behind the closed door. Water splashed, metal clinked, orders were murmured—quick, precise. I counted breaths, imagining hers so I wouldn’t tear the door off its hinges.
Then everything went quiet.
The door opened. The healer stepped out, hands washed, face calm.
“It worked,” he said. “The sutures are holding. I tied off the torn vessels. Blood loss is manageable, no fever. I sedated her—she’ll sleep a few hours. You may go in, but don’t wake her, and don’t touch her left shoulder.”
“Thank you,” I managed.
Inside, the room was already clean. Sera lay on a fresh bed, her breathing slow, steady. A new bandage covered her shoulder; a stabilizing strap held everything in place. I pulled a stool close and set my hand on the mattres
