Amberine groaned as she rolled over in bed, blinking against the soft early morning light that filtered through her curtains. Something felt different. She wasn't in Draven's quarters anymore; this was her own room. The realization brought a rush of comfort, and she sighed deeply, pushing herself upright. Her bed was warm, the sheets were soft, and the air smelled faintly of lavender—something her mother used to insist made sleep come easier.
"How did I get here?" she muttered, her voice groggy. She rubbed her eyes, her gaze falling on the small salamander curled up at her side. Ifrit. Without his usual flames, Ifrit looked kind of... cute. His bare form was more like a strange mix of a lizard and a salamander, with his soft, dark scales that shimmered slightly in the early light. His tiny limbs were tucked close, and his breathing was even, almost peaceful.
