ROMAN POV.
A soft, angelic voice stirred me from the dark.
At first, I thought it was part of the dream or my mind playing tricks in the half-state between pain and waking. But the singing continued, delicate and unhurried, like a lullaby meant for the wounded.
And gods, I was wounded.
My body throbbed with dull fire. Every breath felt like dragging a blade across cracked ribs. But the voice… It eased the pain. I tried to lift my eyes to see who it was, but my vision was too blurry to see the lady seated on my bed properly. I could only make out the dark veil covering her face and how her long fingers smoothed the blanket near my shoulder.
Who was she?
I parted my lips to ask her name, but before the words left my mouth, the room spun once and then faded back into black.
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