The infirmary felt too quiet. Not peaceful. Not comforting. The kind of quiet that stretched across the air like a warning. Healers moved in soft steps, their voices hushed. Wolves stood outside the doorway, pacing in circles that wore grooves into the floor. Every sound felt amplified. Every whisper felt like someone waiting for a miracle that refused to come.
I stayed beside Nathan’s bed and refused to move.
The chair under me had molded to my body hours ago. My back ached. My legs tingled from sitting too long. But I did not care. The bond hummed under my ribs like a soft, steady drumbeat. Not violent like before. Not ripping me apart. Just warm. Present. Like it was waiting for someone to breathe.
Like it was waiting for him.
Nathan looked the same as he had since we dragged him ba
