[Leif's Pov—Continuation—ThorenVald Estate]
Nick was swept into Sir Haldor's arms the instant Zephyy laid him down. Haldor didn't hesitate—his boots hammered against the stone as he ran, shouting for healers. Zephyy's scales bristled like knives, eyes darting like a predator who smelled something wrong.
The halls felt tighter. Smaller. Like the whole estate was holding its breath, waiting for something awful to finish happening.
I ran.
My legs weren't moving fast enough. By the time I reached the healer room—
Eryndor and Thalein were already there, palms glowing white-green over Nick's chest. Nick lay sprawled on the bed like a broken doll, breath shallow, eyes rolled back, lips darkening.
And then I saw it.
Purple. Veins stained dark violet, crawling up his neck like ink bleeding through paper.
My lungs forgot how to work.
"No… no no no—" I stumbled toward him.
Alvar and Father rushed in behind me.
