Elara POV
The world didn't return gently.
It came back in pieces.
Heat on my forehead.
Cold air slipping in from Mira's cracked window.
My lungs dragging in a breath that felt like it belonged to someone else.
Then the sound.
Boots.
Dozens of them.
Racing through the hallway in a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with discipline and everything to do with fear.
And over all of it — voices.
Loud ones.
Accusing ones.
But none of that mattered yet.
Because when my eyes finally opened… they were there.
Kaelen on my left — elbows braced on his knees, head down, hands clasped so tightly the bones looked like they might crack.
Theron on my right — standing too still, watching the rise and fall of my chest with a focus that told me he had counted every breath I'd taken since I collapsed.
And Mira at the foot of the bed — pale, jaw clenched, fingers twisted in the blanket like she was anchoring herself to the room.
For a heartbeat, none of them moved.
