Kieran P.O.V.
The room is quiet after training—quieter than it’s been since we arrived in Moonshadow. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the tall windows, warming the healer wing in soft gold. The air smells faintly of herbs and freshly washed linens, peaceful in a way that settles something inside me I didn’t realize had been clenched.
Amelia wakes slowly.
Her fingers tighten around mine.
Then her lashes lift, eyes blinking through the haze of sleep.
“Kieran…?” Her voice is rough and soft.
“I’m here.”
Her gaze sharpens, focusing on me. Relief flickers across her features—small, instinctive, but real.
She studies my face. “You look tired.”
“So do you,” I counter gently.
She tries to sit up. I steady her with a light hand on her back for support. She accepts it without protes
