A week after the accident, I was back on my feet.

Not at full strength. Zane made sure to remind me of that every single day, functional , but not at full strength.

The bone-deep exhaustion had faded to something manageable, like a low hum in the background of my body.

I could train again. Could lead my pack.

Could stop Valtherion from hovering over me like a six-foot-three shadow with separation anxiety.

"I'm fine," I told him for the fourth time that morning, gently prying his hand off my elbow as I walked down the compound hallway.

"You collapsed seven days ago."

"I've been awake for four of those...