The healer worked fast, his hands glowing faintly with ancient power as he moved over Aria’s fragile frame. Herbs simmered in bowls near the fire, their scents heavy in the air. Words whispered under his breath wrapped around the room like a protective veil.
Aria’s breathing began to even out, her cheeks gaining back some color. Though her eyes remained closed, the subtle twitch of her fingers and the slight furrow in her brows showed signs of returning consciousness. The healer exhaled in relief.
“She’s stable,” he announced softly. “Her body still sleeps, but her spirit is no longer adrift.”
Kaen stood near the door, nodding as he relayed the information through the link. Draka had been away briefly—furious, enraged, and hell bent on finding the one who dared lay a finger on his mate.
