Chapter 4: The Healer’s Game
The sunlight spilled into the room like golden rain.
Caelen lay sprawled across the velvet sheets of his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above. His breaths were steady, his mind anything but.
"So... I’m immune to poisons now," he muttered. "Curses, toxins, spells. Nothing gets through me anymore... But that doesn’t mean I can let my guard down."
He sat up, slowly. His pupils narrowed, and a pulse of faint green light shimmered through them.
His eyes began to glow.
Emerald light scanned the room—walls, floor, ceiling—every edge and shadow was dissected. He turned, checking every cranny, every gap where magic or poison could hide. He didn’t stop until the scan completed with a soft chime inside his mind.
Safe.
The glow in his eyes faded. He let out a breath. "I still don’t trust them."
He walked to the window, resting a hand against the cold frame.
Down below, beneath the pale sunlight, he saw her.
Lyra.