Elena's POV
The sharp scent of antiseptic clung to the air, cold and clean. Too clean. Too sterile.
I sat on the worn hospital chair beside Asher's crib, my hand gently stroking his soft curls. His chest rose and fell, slow and steady now. The IV in his tiny hand looked far too big for his arm. But he was here. He was safe. For now.
Lucinda stood across from me, arms folded, her expression caught between admiration and worry.
"I still can't believe you made it out alive," she murmured. "When news broke out we thought you'd be dead…."
"I was supposed to be a lot of things," I said, forcing a faint smile. "But death wasn't in my plan."
Lucinda came to sit beside me. "How did you even escape and survive, Elena? After everything... after him?"
I looked down at my son, my hope ,my light.
"It was Mercy," I said softly. "The night Dante..."
