"I guess I'm immune to medicine," Alaric said, his tone light, as if defying nature was simply a minor inconvenience.
Lara shot him a sharp look but said nothing. Instead, she gripped the rope and hauled herself upward, muscles tightening as she scaled the wall with practiced ease.
Alaric frowned. That woman. She was too reckless.
He exhaled, shaking his head before following her ascent. His body protested—the wounds, though healing, were far from fully mended. But pain was irrelevant. He reached the rooftop just as Lara turned, her expression dark with reprimand.
"Alaric, are you trying to throw your life away?" she hissed. "I told you—you need rest to recover, but you never listen!"
Alaric raised a brow, unimpressed. "Keep talking, and soon, we'll have soldiers crawling all over us."
Lara froze.
Damn it. When had she become so talkative? It had to be Reya and her master's influence, making her forget herself.
