Demyan’s POV
I had thought battles on blood-soaked fields were the hardest to endure, but nothing—nothing—compared to the torment of pacing outside her chamber door.
Every time the door cracked open, maids hurried out with bowls filled with water stained a deep red. Her blood. The coppery scent clung to the air, suffocating me, reminding me of how close I’d come to losing her. I wanted to storm inside, to hold her, to tell her she wasn’t alone. But the older wolf healer had shoved me back, commanding me to wait.
So I waited.
Each second felt like an eternity, each muffled sound from the room a dagger to my chest. My claws kept threatening to tear free as I raked my hands through my hair. I had fought men, monsters, and shadows. But now? I was powerless. Powerless while the woman who ca
