Petal's POV

The morning after Aslaan’s return began with fragile hope.

For the first time in weeks, laughter hesitant and small echoed through the courtyard. Wolves who had spent days hunched in fever now sat in the sunlight, pale but alive. Even the pups had begun to play again, their bare feet scattering dust in the air.

I stood by the healer’s hut, the wind tugging at my hair, watching them with a strange ache in my chest. Relief, maybe. Or something close to it.

Garcia handed me a ...