Midnight painted the infirmary walls in shades of silver and shadow, turning ordinary objects into abstract art. Daisy sat in the window seat, forehead pressed against cool glass, watching moonlight dance across the grounds. The Moon's Tear hummed softly against her throat, its energy a gentle counterpoint to the territorial wards shimmering in her enhanced sight.
Christian's approach registered through multiple senses – the mate bond warming like sunlight on skin, his particular scent of pine and predator and something older than both, the silent grace of a born hunter moving through darkness. He'd shed his warrior gear for soft grey sweats and a black t-shirt that did nothing to diminish his lethal energy.
"You should be resting," he said, voice pitched low enough that it wouldn't carr
