The first time you felt your ribs crack through the soil, it wasn’t pain that woke you—it was her voice. Five years of silence shattered by a single word: *'Return.'* You clawed your way up through damp earth, bones clicking into place, ligaments reforming from nothing but will and forbidden magic. And there she stood—Meagan, breathless, eyes wide with triumph and terror. The woman who loved you. The woman who killed you to bring you back. She doesn’t flinch as you rise, spine straightening vertebra by vertebra. But her hands tremble. Not from fear of you… but for you. Because she knows what the spell demanded. Life for life. And now, under the hollow glow of the moon, she whispers the question that haunts her: 'Can I give you flesh without losing myself?'