Silas's f POV,
Morning sunlight bled through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the room where Hayden slept. I sat on the edge of the sofa beside her bed, elbows on my knees, fingers loosely interlaced. I hadn’t moved all night, and I didn’t care. I couldn’t—not while she was here, alive, breathing steadily for the first time in days.
She looked peaceful. So different from the pale, fading version of her I’d carried in, barely alive. Now, her breathing stable, her color returning, her face no longer twisted in pain. The sight anchored me, kept the chaos in my chest from spilling out.
The door creaked open quietly. Sareena stepped in with her usual calm grace, balancing a tray with two steaming mugs. She set it on the table, picked one up, and handed it to me.
“You should re
