SEVERUS’ POV

TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO

Water. He needed water. His tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, dusty and dry. How long had he been in the tent? Was he still in the tent?

“Don’t move, Your Grace. You’ve been wounded.”

Was that Gaius?

“No, don’t try to speak, Your Grace. The healer will be here soon.”

No healer would be able to help him. Severus was certain of that. Death had already slipped ...