Oliver's POV
I stirred, my body feeling heavy and warm. My first instinct was to reach for the dull, throbbing ache in my shoulder, but as I flexed my muscles, I realized the pain was gone.
The silver was out of my system. My wolf, restless but satisfied, had spent the night stitching my skin back together. I could feel the faint, raised line of a scar, but the burn was gone.
Then, I felt the weight against my chest.
I froze, my breath hitching as I looked down. Aurora was still there. She was fast asleep, her head tucked perfectly into the hollow of my good shoulder. Her breathing was soft and steady, a gentle puff of air against my bare skin that made my wolf hum with a possessive, territorial pride.
She looked so peaceful. The tension that usually tightened her features—the fear, the grief, the hidden shadows—had vanished in her sleep. One of her hands was draped across my stomach, her fingers curled slightly into the fabric of the duvet.
