I remember the taste of iron before I remember the light.
Not blood. Not exactly. Something bitter beneath my tongue, like crushed leaves and old regret. The kind healers press to your lips when they are not certain you will wake again.
The clinic was quieter that morning. Too quiet.
When you hover close to the edge, the world changes. Sound stretches. Time slows. You hear things that were never meant for you.
I heard Selene’s heels before I heard her voice.
Precise. Measured. Never hurried.
Except this time.
They struck the stone corridor with an urgency she rarely allowed herself. I would have smiled if my lips could manage it.
The door opened with a sharp inhale of cold air.
“Where is she?” Selene asked.
Even weakened, I could hear the tightness she tried to hide.
The maid an
