Azura's POV
The warm hallway of the Crescent Moon pack house stretched out before us, bathed in the soft afternoon light filtering through the high arched windows.
Liona was walking right beside me, her arm linked securely through mine. We were talking about nothing and everything at the same time, our shared laughter bouncing off the stone walls.
It felt so incredibly normal, a sweet taste of peace that I had almost forgotten existed after everything we had just lived through. The air smelled of woodsmoke, roasted meats, and the faint, crisp scent of autumn leaves blowing in through the open terrace doors.
It felt good to be back home.
Then my eyes caught a tall figure standing near the end of the stone corridor.
Torin.
My steps slowed as I stared down the hall in surprise. He was supposed to be resting in the healer's wing, lying flat on a cot while the elders tended to the severe magical burns and blood loss he had suffered during the battle.
