"Where is my sister?" Solarys asked as he barged in.
I had already cleaned Vayra's wound, which had almost healed because of her nature.
"I'm here, I'm here, stop worrying," she groaned from the bathroom doorway, leaning against the frame with a dramatic sigh. She looked significantly better, the color back in her cheeks, though her clothes were still a lost cause. "See? All patched up. There's no need for divine intervention."
Solarys’s golden eyes swept over her, missing no detail—the fading cut on her arm, the singed ends of her hair, the lingering scent of foreign blood that even a spirit’s rapid healing couldn’t completely erase. His expression, a mask of controlled fury, didn’t soften. "What the hell happened? I thought you were in the pack all this time, can't I take a freaking
