#Chapter 138: The Scent of Aftermath

I knew it was over the second I woke up. It wasn't because I felt normal. God, no. I didn’t feel anything close to normal. But the air was still. No pulse behind my eyes, no unbearable heat clinging to my skin. Just the slow, sticky hum of exhaustion stretching from the base of my skull to the tips of my fingers. Richard was already watching me when I rolled over. His arm was folded under his head, eyes steady on my face like he’d been memorizing it. I blinked and tried to return his gaze, but my body felt heavy and limp. I managed a smile. He didn’t say anything right away. Just reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s over,” I said quietly. He nodded once. “You’re alive.” “I wasn’t sure I would be.” That made him laugh. It was low and hoarse, like it hurt a little, but it was real. The sound filled my chest and made something flutter in my stomach. Not heat. Not anymore. Something softer. Lighter. Like the weight of everything was starting to lift.