Dax POV
Mara’s screams are a physical blow, landing low and dirty, stealing the breath right out of my lungs.
The infirmary is a nightmare of blood and panic. Miss Ophelia’s hands are stained crimson as she packs the gaping gash on Mara’s flank with a poultice of silverleaf. The silver poison bubbles like venom in her torn flesh, turning Mara's familiar scent into something sour and desperate—a sickly twist that clings to the air like a physical curse.
Torin hasn’t left her side. His massive shoulders shake with a terrifying mix of rage and helplessness. She’ll fight this. She’s strong, he repeats through the pack link, but his mental voice is a broken, ragged growl.
And it feels like my fault. I was on the front line with Kael. I was scouting. I should have smelled the ambush befor
