Chapter 182: Damon... What Happened To Your Eyes?

Her skin was pale—so pale it nearly matched the snowy white of her hair. Her gray eyes were distant as she sat on her bed, clad in a thin medical robe, a newspaper held tightly in her frail hands.

She was young, perhaps fourteen years old.

The newspaper was an update on the demons—even after an eight-year truce, they had not yet retreated completely.

Her fingers tightened around the pages.

Beside her, magic-tech machines hummed softly, their enchanted mechanisms keeping track of her condition. A thin tube connected her wrist to an elixir-infused drip, feeding her body the potions necessary for her survival.

She slowly raised her head, the golden light of the afternoon streaming in through the curtains.

This large, luxurious room was hers alone—the walls, the enchanted medical equipment, the soft sheets, all of it dedicated to her care. She ate good food, received the best treatment, and hadn't tasted stale bread in a long time.