Chapter 75

Aisha's POV The Tigerkin's breathing was ragged beneath my hands—labored, shallow, and dangerously erratic. The deep lacerations across his flank exposed not only muscle but bone, and magic still sizzled along the torn edges of his wounds like a cruel whisper refusing to let go. His claws twitched now and then, reacting to phantom enemies. I could see the pain etched into his features, even through unconsciousness. He hadn't gone into shock from blood loss alone. Whatever had been used to wound him had tried to break more than just his body—it had tried to fracture his will. I whispered calming words, not to him—he couldn't hear me—but to myself. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The nurses who had flinched at my presence now hovered around the walls like ghosts, unwilling to step in, but too curious to look away. I worked in rhythm. Steady. Clean. Surgical. "Scalpel," I murmured. One of the younger nurses, a Dwarf girl with a chipped fang and shaking hands, stepped forw