Reed POV
The earth was still warm from my claws when I finished.
I'd dug the pit fast—too fast, hands tearing through soil and roots like the ground itself was an enemy. My nails were split, packed with dirt and blood, but I didn't feel it. I didn't feel anything except the pounding urgency in my skull and the sick certainty that time was already running out.
I laid Clare down first.
Carefully. Gently. Like she was only sleeping.
Her lashes rested against her cheeks, her face pale and still, too still. I brushed the dirt from her lips with shaking fingers before lowering her into the pit
Blaze followed—unconscious, burned out, his power spent like a fire starved of oxygen. Seeing him like that twisted something ugly in my chest. I hated the bastard, but not like this. Not helpless. Not while she lay beside him, trusting us both with her life.
