Sienna sleeps curled against me, one hand draped over her stomach. The thought still hits me like a fist to the chest every time it surfaces.
She stirs, lashes fluttering, and I tighten my arm around her waist before she can slip away. “Stay,” I murmur against her neck.
But she’s already moving, quiet and determined. I let her go, watching as she dresses in one of my shirts that swallows her frame. The silver wolf-and-moon necklace I gave her catches the light.
I followed her scent to the infirmary. Maddox stands guard in the hallway, arms crossed, expression grim. He gives me a single nod—everything is in place. Ryker watches the exits. Cora has the roof. If Elara tries anything, she won’t make it far.
The moment I step inside, the sharp scent of antiseptic and dried herbs hits me. El
