In the final moment before darkness claimed her, a vision seemed to shimmer before her eyes—eighteen-year-old Fenris standing in a pool of moonlight not far away, wearing simple training leathers, clapping for her with a smile on his face. His eyes were bright and tender.
Nothing like the cold, partial Alpha he'd become.
When she woke again, she was in another familiar healer's chamber. The sharp smell of medicinal herbs invaded her nostrils, making her stomach turn. The attendant keeping watch noticed she was awake and spoke gently.
"Lady Ashenvale, you've spent nearly the entire past moon cycle in the healers' den. Your health is really too fragile. You don't even have anyone looking after you—shouldn't you send word to your pack to come stay with you?"
Lyra lay on the recovery bed, thick cloth wrapped around her forehead, the burns on her calves throbbing with bone-deep pain. She turned her head and saw Fenris sitting in the chair beside her. Her voice came out so hoarse it barely held a tune.
"That abduction was staged by Selene herself. I'm bringing this before the Pack Enforcers."