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“I think you’ll like Clover,” I said as I started to rub salve on her cuts. “She’s very sweet. She’s been through a whole lot, I suppose like we all have, but somehow, she holds on to that light while I lost mine long ago.”

Once Aura was cleaned and bandaged, I covered her to her neck and put everything away before settling beside her again.

Magdalena peered out from her bedroom, concern etched into her face. “How is everything?” she asked.

“No change. I just tended to her wounds.”

Magdalena nodded. “And you?”

“Fine. What about you?” I wasn’t sure which of us had taken the worst injuries, but none of us were in great shape.

She made a neutral sound and said, “I’m going to my university shift in hopes of getting more hints about what happened days ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“We can’t afford to lose time on this. I’ll make it through.”

I nodded, and she retreated back into her room. A while later, she came by to bid Aura farewell then left the cottage with her briefcase in hand.

Magdalena returned before morning, and Aura still hadn’t opened her eyes. She entered the room with hope written on her face, but with one look in our direction, her shoulders deflated. “Nothing?” she asked.

“Nothing.” It had been about twenty-four hours since Aura attacked with absolutely no change. She seemed to be suspended in time, but her wounds were at least healing. The bruises were yellowed now, her self-inflicted wounds starting to scab. “She’s healing a little slowly still, but definitely healing,” I assured Magdalena.

“If only we knew what was going on internally.”

I agreed with her. She walked stiffly across the room, setting down her briefcase and something wrapped in paper tied with twine. “I’ll change out of these clothes, then you need a break. I’ve brought some food.”

I started to protest, but she said, “No arguing. Aura would offer death threats in a case like this. You better honor those.”

A soft laugh escaped through my nose as I pressed my lips together. Once Magdalena had changed, I went to relieve myself, tend to my own wounds, then investigated the food she’d brought. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was, but I devoured the bread and a wedge of cheese. Once Aura was well again, if she got well, I desperately needed to hunt.

I started to approach her again, but Magdalena glanced up at me, dark circles beneath her eyes. “If there’s one thing about Aura that was inherently lycan, it was her need to get outside,” she said. “She’s denied it for years, but my point is, you’ve been cooped up in here. Why don’t you get some fresh air? I’ll stay with her.”

My feet didn’t move, though I nodded. I kept my gaze on Aura’s face for a while. I had to practically tear myself from the spot to step outside. My body ached, but it was at least healing. I wandered aimlessly through the woodland, clearing my mind. There had once been so many stories of the dangers in the Unclaimed Territory, but it was surprisingly peaceful.

When I finally returned to the cottage, I’d hoped that Aura was awake and well, but nothing had changed. Magdalena and I exchanged looks and she slowly shook her head. She went to bed moments later, and I took my place at Aura’s side.

Three days passed of tending to Aura’s wounds, burning herbs, and remaining by her side. I read to her through daylight and tried not to fall asleep at night. My exhaustion knew no bounds, but somehow, I managed to keep my eyes open. Until I didn’t.

I dreamt of racing through the forest in wolf form. Of the scent of blood. Of death. I dreamt of loneliness, standing on the edge of the cliff and howling at the full moon while I mourned the loss of everyone I’d ever cared about.

It was a weight against my cheek and a familiar scent in my nostrils that pulled me out of my fitful doze. I resisted the urge to snuggle into it as the nightmare fell away, and at that moment, the realization struck. My spine straightened, and I pushed myself upright.

Peering up at me, half propped on her elbow, was Aura. The bruises had faded from her face, and her golden-flecked crimson eyes were clearer than I’d seen them in a while. She tried to sit up but wobbled the moment she pushed herself upright.

I didn’t say anything to her. I just stared. She certainly seemed lucid. Her movements were smooth, though she seemed weakened. Her heart rate hadn’t spiked, nor had her breathing changed to anything other than normal for being awake.

She reached out to me, and the sheets fell away. As she brushed her fingertips over my cheeks, I felt the moisture beneath her touch. I hadn’t even realized tears had escaped, even as my chest ached with the effort to hold my emotions back.

“You really need to shave,” she said, her voice rough from disuse.

I caught her hand in mine, pressing a kiss to her palm as a choked laugh escaped me. I leaned over her to brush kisses over her nose, her cheeks. She stared up at me with wide eyes when I pulled back.

“I’m alive.” The surprise in her voice was unmistakable.

“You’re alive.”

She pulled the sheets away from her body, revealing her nude form. She stared at her arms and legs, the wounds mostly healed, a few still scabbed over.