Chapter 33

Elena swallowed hard—her gaze flickered toward Mira, still perched on Ryn's back, her expression unreadable—black eyes gleamed in the dim light, sharp as daggers, giving nothing away. Elena forced a breath, her voice steady despite the bile rising in her throat.

"No," she lied, turning away from the window, her hand clenching into a fist.

Ryn raised an eyebrow, studying her—his amber eyes narrowed slightly. "You okay?" he asked, his tone probing, sensing the shift in her.

"I think you should heal her instead of me," he said to the Vitalist, nodding toward Elena—his voice softened, a rare gentleness breaking through the roughness.

The medic blinked, confusion flashing across her face—her gaze darted between Ryn and Mira before she nodded quickly, hurrying to Elena's side—green light bloomed from her hands as she pressed them against Elena's bruised arm, the warmth seeping into aching muscles, easing the weight pressing against her bones.