Chapter 264

(Still from Drakon Point of View)

The first thing he remembered was the scent of wild lavender.

That scent alone was enough to rip open a century-old wound.

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The human village had been drenched in summer twilight. Warm air clung to the skin, insects hummed lazily, and the river wound through the valley like a ribbon of silver fire. Smoke from cooking fires curled upward, scented with ros