For three full days, Kylian refused to leave Rachel’s side.
He sat in the same wooden chair beside her bed in the healing wing, barely moving except to stretch his stiff muscles or accept the food and water the servants quietly brought him. His eyes rarely left her face. The pack healer Elara had tried multiple times to convince him to rest in his own quarters, to eat a proper meal, to at least step outside for fresh air, but each time he gave the same firm, quiet answer:
“I’m not leaving her.”
His large hand never let go of hers for long. He held it gently, thumb stroking the back of her hand in slow, soothing circles. Sometimes he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, whispering words meant only for her ears, even though she remained unconscious.
On the first night, his vo
