I sat rigidly in the now-familiar chair, the memory of my previous hypnosis sessions making my heart race. Kaelen's warm hand covered mine, his thumb stroking gentle circles against my skin.
"You don't have to do this," he murmured, his green eyes filled with concern.
"I do," I whispered back, steeling myself. "We need answers, and they're buried somewhere in my mind."
The room felt smaller today, more claustrophobic. Harrison watched from his wheelchair with grandfatherly concern. Ronan stood guard by the door, his usually sardonic expression replaced with uncharacteristic solemnity. Lyra hovered nearby, her medical bag ready for emergencies. King Gareth observed quietly, his ancient eyes unreadable.
And then there was Theronius, the hypnotist, setting up his equipment with practiced efficiency.
"This session may be more challenging than the others," he warned. "We're delving deeper into particularly painful memories."
