Theron's POVThe forest was a blur of shadows and moonlight as we raced through the underbrush. Ranon cradled Elowen against his chest, her body limp and alarmingly pale. Her blood had soaked through his shirt, staining it a deep crimson that glistened under the faint light. Each labored breath she took was a testament to her fading strength.Beside them, I ran, every step sending jolts of pain through my battered body. My ribs ached, likely cracked or worse, and a gash above my brow sent warm rivulets down my face, partially obscuring my vision. But none of it mattered. The only thing that did was the woman hanging onto life in Ranon's arms.Alaric, slightly ahead, kept glancing back, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. He pressed two fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse. His face tightened."Her pulse is weak," he growled, voice raw. "She's losing too much blood—""Don't say it," I snapped, my voice sharper than intended. "She's not going to die.""Theron—""
Last Updated : 2025-04-05 Read more