Valtherion almost died because of me.

I kept coming back to that thought like a tongue pressing against a broken tooth.

Three days of sitting beside his bed in the Meridian's medical wing, watching the rise and fall of his chest, counting breaths like they were currency I couldn't afford to lose.

My moonlight had healed the wound.

Burned through the corruption thread by thread, sealed the torn muscle, coaxed his heart back into rhythm.

But the damage had been catastrophic.

A concentrated lance of ancient dark energy straight through the chest of the man I loved.

And even wolf healing couldn't erase that in an afternoon.

So he slept....