Amelia P.O.V
Rayven returns with a fresh cup of something steaming and probably awful, sets it on the table, and announces without ceremony:
“Up.”
I blink. “Like… standing up?”
“Yes,” she says. “Walking. Slowly. Mindfully. Without fainting, exploding, or falling into another realm. Preferably.”
Kieran looks like he wants to argue on my behalf, and I elbow him lightly before he can open his mouth.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“You’re not fine,” she counters. “But you’re stable enough to attempt controlled movement. And Lira’s outside pacing holes in my hallway. So we’re doing this.”
Shea chuckles in the back of my mind. She missed us.
“Let’s get this over with,” I sigh.
Kieran helps me swing my legs over the side of the cot. He doesn’t grip too tightly, doesn’t hover. Just stays close enoug
