Zakar walked in without a word. His steps were heavy, his face pale, and his eyes clouded with thoughts that he could not put into words. Both Myia and Sera stared at him as he crossed the room.
He carried the unconscious woman with surprising gentleness, lowering her onto his bed as though afraid she would shatter if he was careless. Slowly, he adjusted her limp body, setting her comfortably against the soft sheets and tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Who's that? And why are you battered up? What happened?" Myia's voice trembled with concern. She could barely keep still as she looked between Zakar and the woman.
Zakar didn't answer. Instead, he sat at the bedside, his breath uneven. He pulled at the buttons of his blood-stained shirt until it slid open, revealing a torso marred with bruises, cuts, and deep scars. The rawness of his wounds made Myia gasp in horror.
"Zakar!" she cried, leaping down from her bed and rushing to his side. "What happened to you?!"
