9

*Maddox POV*

I jolt upright, my hand on my chest as it heaves up and down violently, trying to find air. Sweat dots my brow and I swipe at it, moving off the hard bed and swinging my legs to the cold ground. It startles me, but I welcome the reminder of being in the present, not lost in my head like I seem to be every night since my exile. I stare down at my leg that still sports a wicked pink scar where the rogues tore into my leg. Nearly three full days of sleep and healing to get my muscles back. More to get to this point.

I have regained full mobility thanks to my healing abilities, but the skin repair has been a little lackluster. Lexi has joked that it makes me look tough. Which is hilarious, considering my face does that all on its own. It pissed her off when I told her I didn’t want the herbs for my face. The damage was already done. I can feel the places where the nerves have already died from the wolfsbane and silver they used to ensure I would remain scarred. Why waste th