Logan's POV
The ringing in my ears is deafening.
I can't really see anything. There's a blur of limbs and colour. Sounds and smells. The harsh scrape of shoes against hardwood. A scream. Sobbing. Lots of screaming. The heavy thump of bodies jostling and shoving to escape what just happened. My people are scared. My people are running away like frightened foxes with their tails on fire.
But all I see is blood.
It soaks through my fingers. Warm and slick. There's so much of it. It's hard to believe a person could bleed this much and so fast but here I am, pressing harder against Rowan's shoulder, but the blood just keeps spilling out.
Caleb's crouched beside me, one hand clutching his side where he hit the bannister, the other shaking as he pulls out his walkie.
"Get Tristche here right now! What do you mean he's out of the estate? We'll find the shooter! Do it!"
"Rowan!" I gasp again, as if saying his name could stop the bleeding.
