Kael’s POV

“Pass me the towel,” the healer murmured, his hands moving swiftly over Donika’s head. The room smelled of herbs and incense.

I knelt at Donika’s side, gripping her limp hand like it was the only thing holding me to this world. Blood matted her dark hair and streaked her pale skin. She looked still and fragile.

Not again. Goddess, not again.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” I whispered, my voice breaking in ways I hated. “Not you too.”

Her lashes fluttered ...