Lucien’s warriors carried Anana swiftly through the stone corridors, their boots pounding against the floor. Her body hung limp in their arms, her skin was pale beneath the sweat and dirt, her body battered and motionless.
The healer’s chamber awaited them, warm with flickering lanterns and heavy with the scent of herbs. At the sight of Anana’s battered body, the healer’s expression tightened.
“Lay her down. Leave us,” she instructed firmly.
The men obeyed instantly, lowering Anana carefully onto the cot. Without another word, they filed out, the heavy door closing behind them.
Then Silence settled.
The healer approached, her gaze tracing the bruises mottling Anana’s skin. They were deep, ugly marks of battle, but that wasn’t what unsettled her. She could sense it, the spell she had c
