The healer’s chambers were quiet, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside and the occasional flicker of candlelight. Ella lay beneath layers of blankets, her skin pale, her breathing shallow—but steady. Her recovery was slow, but it was progress.
Damian hadn’t left her side since the moment she opened her eyes. Even now, he sat beside her, holding her fragile hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles, his gaze never far from her face.
But as the silence stretched into the night, Ella’s eyes fluttered open again—this time not from pain or restlessness, but from something... else.
A ripple.
At first it was faint, like a whisper in the back of her mind. But then it grew—thicker, heavier. It was like a storm cloud pressing against her soul.
She gasped softly, her finge
