POV: Soraya
The first thing I feel is heaviness—thick, warm, and crushing. It isn’t painful, but it pinches behind my eyes and settles deep inside my chest. I can sense a faint hum beneath my skin, as if the magic inside me is still shifting, still trying to settle back into place.
I force my eyes open.
Light filters through the soft cream-colored curtains of the healer’s chamber. The air smells of crushed herbs and cooled stone. A warm cloth rests on my forehead, and for a moment I simply lie there, breathing through the dim ache in my body.
A small gasp escapes me when I shift.
“You’re awake.”
Vienne’s voice comes from the side of the bed, soft but edged with exhaustion. When I glance toward her, she looks as though she hasn’t slept for days—hair tied back in a messy knot, dark circles under her eyes, hands still stained with the green tint of healing paste.
“Vienne?” My voice cracks painfully. “What… happened?”
She exhales, setting aside a clay bowl of herbs. “You burnt yourself out completely. Your powers overloaded after the battle. You fainted on the dunes before anyone even noticed.”
Memory floods me—the moment Zarek fell, the relief, and then the sharp snap inside my chest like something tearing loose. I swallow.
“How long have I been out?”
“Two days,” Vienne says. “Raevan brought you back. Practically carried you through the gates like a half-mad man. Nobody could get you out of his arms until we reached this room.”
I blink slowly. Two days. It feels impossible, though my body aches exactly like someone who’s been unconscious that long.
“Raevan…” I murmur.
Vienne snorts a tired laugh. “Yes. He hasn’t left your side unless I forced him to. I had to manually drag him out to get some air, or he would’ve burned with you.”
I close my eyes. Something tightens inside my chest—not pain, but something deeper.
“What exactly happened? Why did I burn out?” I ask.
Vienne leans forward, pressing a cool hand to my cheek. “Because you unleashed enough magic to shake the desert, Soraya. You bent reality. You stopped the armies. You nearly killed yourself doing it.”
I wince. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” she whispers. “But magic like yours doesn’t care about meaning. It cares about limits. And you pushed far beyond yours.”
I begin to sit up, but a bolt of pain shoots through my ribs and I gasp. Vienne grabs my shoulders gently.
“Slow. Don’t move too fast. Your body is healing, but it’s not done yet.”
I let her guide me back down, breath still sharp in my chest.
“Can you give me water?” I ask.
She reaches for a clay cup and tilts it to my lips. I take slow sips, the cool liquid easing the dryness in my throat.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“You don’t need to thank me. I’m your friend. And… you’re the Luna of Zehrael. I’m supposed to keep you alive.”
She tries to joke, but her voice trembles. I finally look at her fully—her glassy eyes, her bitten lip, her shaking hands.
“You were scared,” I say softly.
Her breath catches.
“You scared me half to death,” she confesses. “When I saw your magic turning wild, I thought—” She swallows hard. “I thought the desert was about to lose you. And I’m not ready to lose you.”
My throat tightens. I reach out and take her hand.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Vienne squeezes my fingers, grounding me. “Good. Because this place would fall apart without you.”
We sit like that for a few breaths—quiet, warm, steady.
“What about the others?” I ask. “Kaide? Tazir?”
“They’re fine,” Vienne answers. “Exhausted, bruised, but alive. They’re with the healers helping the wounded. Ashra and Zehrael soldiers are working side by side. It’s… different. Peace always looks strange at first.”
“And Raevan?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Her eyebrows lift—slow and knowing. “Raevan hasn’t slept. Barely eats. Kept your hand in his until I forced him to leave the room. I think he was afraid you would vanish if he blinked.”
The words wrap heat around my ribs. “He shouldn’t… worry that much.”
“Then stop dying in front of him,” she says bluntly.
I laugh—a small, broken sound. “I’ll try.”
Vienne stands and retrieves a glowing stone from her satchel. She sets it beside my arm and murmurs a chant. A wave of warmth washes through me, soothing the ache in my limbs.
“This will help settle the last of the energy inside you,” she says. “Your magic is stabilizing, but you still need rest.”
“How long?”
“At least another day before you walk. Longer before you fight. Raevan will probably try to chain you to the bed himself if you so much as sit up without help.”
I smile faintly. “He would.”
Vienne pauses, looking at me with an expression I can’t quite decipher.
“Do you want to see him?” she asks softly.
My breath catches. I don’t answer for a moment.
“I… don’t know,” I whisper.
“Then I’ll keep him outside until you do.”
She brushes a hand over my forehead.
“Rest, Soraya. Heal. The desert needs its Luna in one piece.”
As she steps out, the room quiets again. I lie back, feeling the warm hum beneath my skin—magic settling into calm waves instead of violent storms.
I breathe out slowly.
Alive. Safe. Healing.
The war is over.
But the next step—the future—I can already feel it approaching. And when Raevan comes back into this room, nothing will ever be the same.