Ella's POV
The healer's wing always smelled faintly of crushed herbs and smoke. A strange combination—soothing and scorched. Like it couldn't decide whether it was meant to heal or haunt.
Ivy hadn't moved since the night she arrived. The gash at her side had been deep, and the poison in her bloodstream even deeper. We hadn't seen anything like it before, not even Remo. It burned through muscle like wildfire, then went cold.
She slept through two moons.
I came to check on her every day.
And on the third morning, I walked in with a hollow ache in my chest and found her awake.
"Finally," I breathed.
Her eyes met mine—dull, rimmed in dark exhaustion, but unmistakably hers.
"I look like hell, don't I?" she rasped.
I laughed. Or maybe it cracked out of me like something broken. "You alw
