Chapter 14 Healing

• He healed fast — werewolf fast, Rhoswen assured her, the wound already closing to an angry pink line by the time they got him back to his room — but fast wasn't the same as instant, and for the first several hours Elara didn't leave his bedside for anything, not food, not sleep, not even Bram's careful attempt to coax her toward the kitchen with the promise of something warm.
• "You could at least eat something," Lira said gently, appearing in the doorway sometime past midnight with a mug of something steaming and a plate she set down without asking. "He'll be fine. Wolves heal from worse than this, and you look like you're about to fall over yourself."
• "I'll eat when he wakes up and tells me himself that he's an idiot for jumping in front of a wolf." Elara didn't look up from where she sat, one hand wrapped loosely around Kael's, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest like it might stop if she blinked at the wrong moment, some small, superstitious part of her convinced that vigilance alone could keep him breathing.