DRAVEN
Cold. That's what I felt first. Then came the ache. A slow, drag-ging throb behind my ribs. Muscles stiff. Throat scorched raw.
My body felt like it had been broken open and stitched back to-gether by flame and shadow. And then, I smelled her.
Warmth. Rain. Wildflowers. Elara.
I blinked against the jagged torchlight playing across the cave's ceil-ing. The walls I knew too well, etched with claw marks, sweat, blood. A place I had broken in. Endured in. Survived.
But never like this. I turned my head.
She was there. Curled beside me, arms wrapped around her knees, her cloak draped across my bare chest like a shield. She must have been freezing. And still, she stayed.
A sharp breath tore from my lungs. "You're always trying to get yourself killed," I rasped.
Elara startled, her eyes locking onto mine, wide, glassy, too full of emotion. Her mouth parted, but no sound came.
She leaned in, cupping my cheek. Her touch was warm. Real.
Dangerous.
