The cool night air bit at my skin, sharp and cold, as I lay on the damp ground, my breath shallow and labored. The remnants of the ritual still clung to the clearing like a dense fog, heavy and thick, pressing down on me from all sides. My body felt drained, like I had fought an entire battle alone, against something I barely understood. But it was over, at least for now. The curse was still there, still simmering in the background, but I had pushed it back—at least enough to feel like myself again.
I glanced up, my eyes barely able to focus on Aimee, who knelt beside me, her face a mask of worry and exhaustion. Her hands were trembling as she brushed the hair from my face, her touch so gentle it made me ache inside. She hadn't said anything yet, but the look in her eyes was enough. She had feared the worst, feared I might not come back from the darkness. Hell, I had feared it too. But somehow, I had pulled through, and I owed it all to her.
