[Ovelia's POV]
A faint fluttering sensation made me glance down. The fabric of my dress pocket twitched slightly, the movement barely noticeable to anyone but me. Carefully peeling back the edge, I saw the fairy stirring within—his delicate fingers flexing, his prism wings trembling as they caught the moonlight. His tiny chest rose and fell in steady rhythm now, no longer the shallow breaths of exhaustion.
"Ann," I kept my voice low, barely a whisper, pitched for her werewolf hearing alone. My fingers trembled as I angled the pocket opening toward her. "Look."
Ann bent her head closer. Her black nose twitched, warm breath ghosting across my hands as she studied the waking fairy. His iridescent glow reflected in her dark eyes, making them shimmer like liquid amber. "I don't know much about fairies," she murmured, her voice low and thoughtful, "but I think his energy is returning. Slowly. Whatever he did to divert that spell… it nearly burned him out completely."
