I know, I reply, resting my head against his chest. But right now, I need to check on my daughter.
The medical wing is quiet. The deep wards hum a steady, protective lullaby.
Elara is still asleep. Her breathing is slow and even, her small chest rising and falling beneath the thick blankets. The monitors show her magical core is slowly, steadily recharging, drawing ambient energy from the healed ley lines outside.
I sit in the chair beside her bed, taking her small, cool hand in mine. Kade stands behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders, his presence a solid, unyielding anchor.
"She's going to be okay," Kade says softly.
"I know," I whisper. "But she's just a child, Kade. Lilith wants us to train her to weave a cosmic brace. She wants us to turn our seven-year-old into a weapon ag
