The moment Raelynn's body went limp against him, Elion didn't waste a second. He scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her against his chest as a sharp pang of fear settled in his gut. Her skin burned against his own—feverish, drenched in sweat. Her breathing was uneven, shallow gasps that barely filled her lungs.
"Raelynn." His voice was tight, urgent. "Stay awake."
Her fingers twitched weakly, a feeble attempt to grasp at his shirt. She tried to speak, but only a faint whimper escaped her lips.
Elion's jaw clenched as he strode swiftly through the hallway, his steps eerily silent despite his haste. The grand mansion felt suffocatingly still, the only sound the rustle of fabric as he adjusted his grip on her. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her chest rising and falling in weak, unsteady motions.
He had seen her tired before. He had seen her in pain. But this? This was something else.
