Chapter 62 – The Cost of Loyalty

They say the smell of blood fades. They lie.

Even after the battlefield is scrubbed clean and the dead are buried, it lingers—in the soil, in the silence, in the back of your throat when you’re trying to speak like things are normal again.

And it clings to guilt.

Cian’s sacrifice replayed in my mind on a cruel loop: the sound of his body hitting the ground when he took the hit meant for me, the way his breath rattled in his chest, the flash of his eyes right before he dropped—like he already knew it would come to this. Like he'd made peace with it before I could even scream his name.

Now he lay still in the healer’s wing. Breathing, but just barely. Bruised, broken, and silent.

And I was the reason why.

I sat by his bedside, fingers twitching against the blanket that barely rose and fell with each breath. The magic in my blood buzzed quietly, agitated and restless. It didn’t know what to do with itself—not rage, not fear. Just waiting. Useless.

"You should sleep."

Kieran’s voice came