The master bedroom doors burst open, slamming hard against the stone walls.
Leo barged in, still covered in forest mud, Zarthian blood, and soot of their mounts, reeking of blood and filth.
He ignored the expensive rugs and the terrified gasp of a maid, as his eyes locked instantly onto the large bed in the centre.
Shadow slipped in right behind him, silently dismissing the maid and sealing the doors shut.
Leo rushed to the bedside. "Seraphine," he breathed.
She lay motionless beneath the fur blanket. Her condition had plummeted in the few hours he had been gone.
Her skin was still pale and translucent. Her blue veins bulging along her arm. He could barely see her chest moving with impossibly shallow breaths.
The golden lightning she had shown at the banquet had scorched her internal mana pathways. The resulting void was now actively cannibalizing her remaining life force. She was dying.
