Petal’s POV

Morning came shrouded in silence. Not peace but total silence. The kind that feels like it’s holding its breath before something terrible happens.

I woke to the sound of distant coughing, to the smell of herbs and blood mingled so thick in the air it clung to my throat. My hands were still stained from the night before herbs ground into my skin, streaks of dried crimson tracing my knuckles.

We’d saved them. I was sure of it. The fever had broken; the tremors had stilled. ...