The climb to Lune’s Eye would take a day.
But they didn’t move.
Not yet.
Seph couldn’t.
Her body lay still by the fire in a makeshift tent, eyes open, breathing slow but shallow. She wasn’t unconscious. Just... somewhere else.
Leo sat beside her, legs crossed, arms braced on his knees.
He hadn’t spoken in hours.
Ravik checked her pulse again. “Stable, but fading.”
“She’s not fading,” Leo muttered. “She’s remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
Leo’s hand hovered over hers. “Everything she gave up.”
---
Inside her mind, Seph wandered a garden long forgotten.
Stone paths. White lilies.
She turned a corner and saw a boy, sitting on a rock wall.
His hair was shorter. His eyes softer.
He held a tiny wolf pup in his arms.
Blood soaked his shirt, but his face was calm.
“You fixed her,” he said.
Seph stepped closer. “She would’ve died otherwise.”
The boy smiled. “You smell like moonlight and medicine.”
“And you smell like trouble.”