After a while, Meredith stepped quietly through the infirmary doors. She was balancing a tray of steaming venison stew, thick and hearty, the way Magnus liked it.
Soon she approached the bed where Magnus lay, his massive frame partially hidden beneath the thin hospital sheets.
His muscles tensed, eyes distant, lips pressed in a thin line. Bandages wrapped tightly around his chest and arms, streaks of blood staining some of the gauze.
The deep cuts on his forearms and the fresh scratches peeking from under his shirt collar made her stomach twist.
But when Magnus's eyes landed on her, everything changed. His tense posture softened, and a slow, familiar grin spread across his face. His eyes lit up with a spark that she had been missing to see.
“Is that... food I smell?” Ma
