The first thing she noticed was the ache. Lila woke stiff and sore, every inch of her body humming with bruises. The thick pelt beneath her barely softened, the chill biting up from the stone. Her throat burned. Her ribs felt cracked. Her knuckles were swollen. But she was alive. More than that, she wasn't alone. Lila turned her head slowly, careful not to wake the little body curled beside her. Niko, back in his skin, tangled in too-big linen and drooling on her shoulder, slept with a trust that made her chest tighten. One of his small hands clutched her shirt.
The other still held that ridiculous plush fox, matted and singed from whatever hell they'd both survived.
Lila exhaled softly, brushing a curl from his forehead.
"You're safe now, sugar," she whispered. "But I have got work to
