Kaelen's POV
I adjusted the covers around my mother's sleeping form, tucking the blanket snugly against her sides. Her chest rose and fell in steady rhythm now, the terrible shallowness from earlier finally gone. This was real sleep, restorative sleep, not the poisoned unconsciousness that had nearly stolen her from me.
The sterile infirmary wasn't where she should be resting. Come morning, I would personally carry her back to her own chambers. She deserved to open her eyes to familiar surroundings, to walls that held memories instead of medical equipment. She needed to know she had truly returned to us.
I stepped away from the bed, studying her face in the dim light. The healthy flush had returned to her skin, replacing that ghastly gray pallor that had made my blood run cold. She looked like herself again. Like the strong woman who had raised me, not some fragile shell that death had tried to claim.
