Eira's pov
I'm not ready to die.
That thought loops like a whisper in the back of my mind as I drift in and out of the haze. There's beeping around me, distant voices, the hum of machines working harder than I ever imagined my body would need them to.
I try to move.
Pain clamps down like chains.
Every inch of me screams, but my heart,my heart feels numb. The weight inside me isn't just physical; it's emotional, mental, spiritual. Like grief poured concrete into my veins.
Everything hurts.
But I'm still here.
I don't know why.
Maybe I should've slipped away. Maybe I wanted to. But my mind… it refused. Even as my body betrayed me, even as the shadows closed in, there was something inside me that wouldn't let go.
Or someone.
Draven's face flashes in my memory. That stupid, arrogant, annoyingly handsome face. I remember yelling at him. I remember him yelling back. I remember feeling again. Maybe for the first time since everything crumbled around me.
