CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN - Through The Splintered Glass
Miles away, in a small cabin nestled deep within the forest, Aria Cross opened her eyes for the first time in three days. Consciousness returned gradually, sensations filtering in one by one – the softness of unfamiliar bedding beneath her, the scent of herbs and wood smoke, the dull throb of healing wounds along her side and shoulder.
"So, you've decided to rejoin the living," a calm voice observed from nearby.
Aria turned her head cautiously, wincing at the stiffness in her neck. A middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair sat in a rocking chair beside the bed, her hands busy with some kind of herbal preparation.
"Where am I?" Aria croaked, her throat painfully dry.
The woman set aside her work and reached for a clay cup filled with water. "My home. I found you half-dead by the river three days ago."
Memory flooded back – fleeing from Lucas, the wound in her side reopening, the desperate struggle to reach the river and mask her scent. Aria accepted the water with trembling han

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