The silence stretched long after Sera and Myia's departure. Zakar sat slumped against the wall, his breath shallow, body aching from the battle. His thoughts churned with doubt, guilt. But in that silence, another sound slowly emerged the faint rustle of sheets, the delicate groan of someone stirring.
Zakar's head snapped toward the bed. The woman. Her body once limp, breath shallow shifted weakly. Her hand twitched against the fabric before dragging upward toward her face, as though testing whether she was still alive.
Her eyes opened.
They were hazel, clouded at first by confusion, then widening sharply as they fixed on Zakar's looming silhouette in the dim light. Panic immediately rippled through her features. She tried to push herself upright, her movements frantic though feeble, and her lips parted with a trembling cry.
