Kieran's POV
The pain was constant, sharp, burning, never-ending.
I sat hunched forward in the cold chair, sweat and blood sliding down my bare chest and back in equal measure. The silver blade was still lodged through me, its cruel length piercing from my back and emerging clean through my chest. Every breath was a battle. Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of fire roaring through my veins.
The room was silent except for the steady drip of my blood hitting the tiled floor.
The healers stood clustered by the wall, exchanging tense whispers, too afraid to act. I could smell their hesitation. The silver embedded in the blade dulled my healing, turning my Lycan resilience into a fragile thread barely holding me together. If they pulled it out without a plan, I'd bleed out before my body could catch up with the bleeding.
