Metheea's POV
Metheea woke slowly. Soft light filtered across her bed curtains, and the familiar scent of her room wrapped around her. Her body felt weak, her chest warm, and her limbs heavy as if she had been asleep for days.
Someone let out a shaky breath.
"She is awake," Fiona said.
Metheea blinked and pushed herself up a little. Kalistra stood at the foot of her bed, arms crossed but her expression relieved. Resme stood beside her, jaw tight, trying to control her temper. Fiona hovered gently at the bedside with a cup of water. Head Priest Michael stood a little behind them.
Azrayel sat closest to her.
He was leaning forward in a chair, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on her with calm intensity.
Metheea's stomach dropped.
Her human form was back. Dark brown hair. Black eyes. Warm skin. No scales. But the mana inside her pulsed faintly under her skin. It reminded her of everything that had happened.
