THE TOUCH OF LIFE
Elara sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers still hovering over Kael’s hand. Every breath she took seemed louder than the last, every heartbeat an echo of the chaos that had raged the night before. The keep was quiet now, deceptively quiet, but the tension in the air refused to release its grip.
The healer, a man whose hands had steadied countless Alphas and who had witnessed more battles than Elara cared to imagine, had been watching her all this time. He had observed something that no words could explain—a life tethered to a single, delicate touch, a heartbeat restored not by herbs or poultices, but by her presence alone.
“Elara…” he said quietly, drawing her attention without startling her. His voice was cautious, laden with awe. “I need to speak to the elders.”
