The first thing I felt was him. Not the bed beneath me. Not the ache in my body.

Him. His warm fingers wrapped tightly around mine, strong and steady.

My eyes opened slowly. White ceiling. Infirmary lights. The sharp scent of herbs and antiseptic.

Then Cassian.

He sat beside the bed, leaning forward slightly, his hand locked around mine like he’d decided something while I was unconscious and never planned to take it back.

His head lifted the second I moved.

“You’re awake.”

His ...