Chapter 68 Your Health Is A Pack Requirement

• When I woke up, the morning light outside the window was soft and golden, brushing against the walls like a quiet whisper. The air carried a faint scent of medicine and silver grass—the fragrance the pack doctors always used to calm nerves. My body felt heavy, like I’d been pulled from the bottom of a freezing lake. Cold. Weak. But for the first time in a long while, I could breathe.
• Zoe sat by my bedside, dark circles bruising the delicate skin beneath her eyes. When she saw me stir, relief swept over her face like a wave.
• “You’re finally awake,” she breathed.