During the days when Evanthe was tending to Morpheus, Ember prayed fervently for his recovery and return. Nearly a month had passed, and her patience was wearing thin.
"Draven, can you take me to the Spirit Shrine? Yesterday, Lady Evanthe and Cornelia said he should wake up in a day or two."
Draven took her hand gently, offering comfort. "You are not allowed to enter the Spirit Circle since you are not from the witch clan. But rest assured, the moment he wakes up, you will be the first to know."
Ember pressed her lips into a thin line. "I wish I were a witch."
Draven chuckled. "You are more dangerous than a witch."
"Are you scared?" she asked, searching his eyes for a genuine answer.
He caressed her cheek, a light smile forming on his lips. "I like dealing with dangerous things."
Suddenly, Draven sensed something, his ears perking up. He spoke immediately. "Let me take you there."
"What? Where?"
