Kael stepped into the healer's hall, and the scent of dried herbs instantly wrapped around him.
Asha turned, a soft smile already blooming on her face.
And for a moment—just a moment—his heart trembled.
"You're back," she said gently. "Done with the dungeon?"
Kael exhaled heavily and ran a hand through his hair.
"It's… complicated," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "And it gave me a migraine."
Her expression didn't change. She didn't press for details.
She just smiled again—that knowing, healer's smile—and nodded.
"Sit," she said softly. "You don't have to talk."
He didn't argue.
He sank onto the low mat by the wall, and she moved with a healer's grace—calm, unhurried, sure.
She walked to her shelf and pulled out a small carved bowl.
Lighting the mixture inside, she whispered a chant under her breath. The herb began to smolder gently, releasing a soft curl of lavender and mugwort smoke into the room.
It was grounding. Soothing.
As if the smoke found the edges of his fraying mind and slowly began stitching them back together.
Kael leaned back against the wall, eyes falling shut.
But then—
She knelt beside him. Without a word, her hand found the back of his neck, and she pulled his head gently into her lap.
He stiffened—just for a second.
Then came the humming.
Low. Sweet. Wordless.
It flowed from her chest to his ears like magic, like lullabies made of moonlight.
Kael didn't know the tune. Didn't know the language.
But his wolf stilled inside him.
The migraine dulled. The weight on his shoulders faded.
And before he even realized it…
Sleep took him.
Right there, with his head on her lap, the scent of lavender in the air, and her voice wrapping around his dreams.
Kael stirred slowly, his senses waking before his eyes did.
The migraine was gone. The weight on his shoulders… lighter.
He blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the soft candlelight flickering across the healer's hall.
She was sitting a few feet away, her legs tucked beneath her, flipping through an old, worn-out book—fingers trailing gently across the page like the words meant something deep.
Asha.
He watched her quietly.
How peaceful she looked.
How the faint crease between her brows told him she was fully absorbed, maybe even lost in thought.
How her presence alone was enough to calm a storm inside him that he hadn't even realized was there.
"I haven't felt this relaxed in… I don't even know how long."
He sat up slowly, careful not to break the quiet.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, that same gentle smile tugging at her lips.
"You slept well."
He nodded, clearing his throat. "Too well. Whatever you burned—it worked."
She chuckled softly. "Told you I'm a professional."
His lips quirked, but the smile didn't last.
His gaze dropped to the floor, a heaviness suddenly curling in his chest.
The mating ball.
It was coming soon. A night meant to celebrate fate. To bond destined mates. To bring hearts together under the moonlight.
But the thought of Asha… in someone else's arms?
It made something tighten inside him.
What if she finds her mate—and it's not me?
What if I watch her fall into someone else's bond, and I'm left here… broken?
Moon Goddess, don't do this to me.
Not her. Please, not her.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Let her be mine. Or help me be strong enough to survive it if she's not.
Let me come out of this… victorious. One way or another.
When he opened his eyes, she was watching him.
Softly.
As if she felt the battle waging in his soul.
And that made it worse—because she saw too much without saying a word.