WHAT MAREN SAW
Selene's POV
Maren was sitting up when I arrived.
Not fully — she was propped against the pillows at an angle Draven had clearly approved, her color better than the previous night but still carrying that particular hollowness of someone whose body had been running on borrowed time for longer than it should. A cup of something warm sat on the table beside her. She hadn't touched it.
She was waiting.
"You didn't sleep," she said when I came through the door.
"Neither did you."
"I've been not sleeping for fifteen years." The ghost of something — not quite a smile — crossed her face. "I'm practiced at it."
I pulled the chair close and sat. Draven had left instructions: no more than an hour, no emotional escalation, nothing that would set back the recovery. I had agreed to all of it and intended to keep my word.
