Soren opened his eyes and blinked at the bright light, quiet room and overly comfortable bed. The dust was dancing in the sunlight, and the sound of falling snow was still coming in from outside, but the room was warm and he was comfortable.
The "Silver Ash" finally stopped flowing from his mouth, and the itchy coughing in his throat had gone, leaving behind a metallic taste on his tongue that tasted like copper coins left in the snow. For the first time in seven days, his thoughts were his own, yet it felt like a house that had been ransacked.
The seven days of fever that the palace physician had said felt like a daydream, the intense heat was almost too much for him to bear.
The psychic bridge between the "Bond" had now calmed down into a steady, rhythmic pulse. It was a constant reminder, like a whisper, that Lucian's heart was still beating somewhere nearby, and now a smaller pulse was officially connected to the bones of his body.
He could sense it.
