LUCIAN
The scent of white jasmine clings to my fingers as I head towards Leah's room. I plucked them myself, quietly, from the pack’s greenhouse at dawn. I haven’t done something like this in years. Maybe never, not like this, and not for anyone.
But for Leah… I’d do it again.
She's asleep when I push the door open. The room is dim and warm, the curtains drawn just enough to let morning light spill across the stone floor like a gold ribbon. She’s curled under the sheets, her lips slightly parted, and her skin still pale, but peaceful.
“She's here Lucian, she's still with you,” I unconsciously remind myself.
I walk in slowly, careful not to wake her, and set the flowers in the small vase by her bedside. She shifts a little, and murmurs something under her breath. I brush a strand
