Pain had become familiar.
Not welcome — never welcome — but familiar enough that Arianna recognised it before she even opened her eyes. It was no longer sharp like the bullet wound or crushing like witch magic. This pain was heavy, dull, like her body was reminding her that survival always came at a cost.
She forced herself to breathe.
In.
Out.
The air smelled sterile again.
Hospital.
Her lashes fluttered open slowly.
The first thing she saw was sunlight.
Soft golden light spilling across the room, warming the pale sheets and the quiet machines that surrounded her. For a brief second she wondered if she was dreaming — if this was one of those strange peaceful visions that came before death.
Then she felt warmth around her hand.
Real.
Strong.
Familiar.
Alexander.
Her head tur
