Morning came quietly.
Not rushed.
Not heavy.
Just… still.
Lyra lay against the pillows, her strength slowly returning, her body no longer fighting to survive—but adjusting.
Becoming.
Kael hadn’t left.
Not once.
Even when he stood at a distance, his presence filled the room.
Watching.
Guarding.
Waiting.
The doors opened softly.
The healer returned
this time with more preparation.
More focus.
More certainty.
“It’s time,” she said gently.
Lyra’s fingers tightened slightly against the sheets.
Kael stepped closer without thinking.
The room fell into careful silence.
Soft movements.
Measured breath.
The healer worked slowly, her hands steady as she guided the process.
Light shimmered faintly over Lyra’s abdomen
a deeper examination this time.
Not assumption.
Confirmati
