Darien
“Months she may not have comfortably,” Iris clarified, as if the distinction between dying and suffering was a comfort. “The witch cannot kill her. Your wolf prevents that. But the constant battle drains her. Her quality of life will deteriorate. The fatigue will worsen. The seizures may return. She will be alive, but she will not be well. She would almost be a vegetable at times … sleeping constantly.”
The room was quiet. The smoke from the herbs had dissipated, leaving behind the faint scent of something burned. The sigils on the bedframe had gone dark.
The door opened and Cain stepped in. He’d been listening. Of course he had. Cain always listened.
“There may be another option,” he said. He looked at Keanu, who had appeared behind him in the doorway, his amber eyes sharp. “Th
