Elijah’s POV
Dawn had not fully broken when I rose, the faint morning light barely filtering through the slats of my window. My mind was clouded with worry, worry for Leila, for her safety, and for what strange magic still bound her to Sebastian. Every sunrise reminded me that she was still out there, somewhere between two worlds: ours and the one Sebastian had dragged her into.
I dressed quickly and crossed to the healing tent, where I had fallen into the habit of spending my first hours. Supplies were neatly stacked along the shelves, bandages, salves, and herbs with moon-tinged petals. I reached for a jar of balm, but my hand trembled. Each time I thought of Leila’s pale face, I felt a pang in my chest. I rubbed the balm between my fingers, trying to calm my nerves, but it did little
