Lyander crossed the room in quick strides, panic etched into every line of his body. Despite the fresh wounds still bleeding through his bandages, he didn't even wince. He was too focused on her.
Before she could answer, the shamans and healers flooded in behind him, ushering him away with gentle but firm hands.
"She needs rest," one of the elder shamans said in a patient tone, placing a calming palm on Lyander's chest.
"If not for them," Liora thought, watching with surprise, "he probably wouldn't have left my side."
With a final reluctant glance, Lyander allowed himself to be guided out, though his gaze never left her until the door closed behind him.
Liora exhaled, her body slumping into the bed. She was grateful. She wasn't ready to face his questions yet—not when she barely understood what had just happened to her own soul.
One of the shamans hovered beside her, ancient eyes peering deep into her spirit.
