Chapter 71

Maeve’s POV

I was utterly weak—so weak that every breath felt like a struggle. My eyes burned from the endless exhaustion washing over me. Flames seemed to course through every fiber of my body; each bone throbbed with agonizing pain, and the pit of my stomach clenched and seared with the same harsh fire. I let out a low groan, silently praying to the moon goddess for the torment to end.

When the ache refused to ease, another groan escaped my lips as I shifted, desperate for some small measure of comfort—but found none. More than anything, I longed for Draven’s touch, for the soothing warmth of his arms around me.

Suddenly, I realized I was cocooned in total darkness. Everything around me was pitch black. Was I dreaming? No—this felt too vivid. I had to rouse myself. I fought an internal battle, trying to pry my eyelids open, but they were too heavy, weighed down by exhaustion. Summoning every ounce of willpower, I managed to flutter my eyes ajar.

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