She finally slept. Not peacefully. Not deeply. There are traces of her tears on her pillow.
Exhaustion dragged her under after the healer cleaned the shallow cuts and I held her until her breathing evened out.
I didn’t let go when she fell asleep. I was afraid if I did, she would disappear.
Even now, hours later, I can still see it. The clearing. Her bare skin under the nature's light. The blood on her arm. For a single, paralyzing second, I thought I was too late.
That second nearly killed me.
I have faced rogues with their teeth at my throat. I have ordered executions. I have stood in battle with blood soaking my boots.
None of it ever froze my heart the way seeing my mate on her knees in that forest did.
My mate. Not Layla. Not memory. Willow. Just Willow. And I almost lost her
