Petal's Pov

The healer’s ward smelled of damp herbs and fear. The soft mist from the containment barrier clung to the air, turning each breath into something heavy, difficult to draw. Rosie lay on the mat, her small body trembling violently, her breaths shallow and uneven. The faint glow of the moon filtered through the slatted windows, falling across her pale face and making every tremor visible, every quiver of guilt and pain impossible to ignore.

I knelt beside her, heart hammering. Her ...