As the days passed, my injuries healed faster than I had anticipated. The deep gashes on my side had scabbed over, the bruises had faded to a mottled yellow, and the stiffness in my limbs was beginning to ease.
I found myself regaining more of my independence, no longer needing Ciara's assistance as much as before. While part of me reveled in the return of my strength, there was another part a smaller, quieter part that couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.
Without the excuse of needing Ciara's constant attention, I started spending more time on my own, reflecting on everything that had happened.
The whirlwind of events, from the initial tension between us to the heated kiss in the infirmary, replayed in my mind over and over again.
I couldn't help but think about how I'd initially seen Ciara as nothing more than a reckless, arrogant warrior who thrived on chaos and flirting with anything that moved. But now… now I wasn't so sure.
