Friedrich's POV
“What do you mean by ‘look who the wolf dragged in?’” I ask, but don’t wait for an answer before adding, “The human is badly wounded, and I need you to heal her.”
I set the girl down on the bed, noticing she’s passed out from blood loss.
Lyra rises, gathering a bowl of water, fresh towels, and a first aid kit. I eye her movements with a grimace.
“Magically,” I whisper, uncertain if the girl is entirely unconscious or if there's still a little consciousness in there that can still hear us.
“I can’t do anything for her—magically, that is,” Lyra replies, her voice calm but resolute. She tears through the girl’s jeans to expose the nasty wound and begins cleaning it with mechanical precision.
“What do you mean you can’t do anything for her magically?” I snap, glancing a
