Elena’s POV

The scent of antiseptic fills the air, sharp and cold. The healer’s room glows under dim lights, machines humming softly. Maya lies on the bed, too pale, too still.

I hate every sound in this place.

Rhea checks the monitors and glances at Damon. “We’re ready to begin.”

He nods once. His face is carved from stone, unreadable, but I see the tension in his hands.

I sit beside Maya, stroking her hair. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Mama’s here.”

She doesn’t stir. Her ...