The living room door slammed open.
Glen burst in, breath ragged, chest tight with panic. His eyes locked onto the figure curled up on the couch, and everything inside him stopped.
Etien was trembling violently, drenched in cold sweat that pooled beneath him on the wooden floor. His face was ghostly pale, lips quivering, every breath a battle he looked seconds away from losing.
"Etien!" Glen's voice cracked as he stumbled forward, nearly collapsing when his knee slammed into the edge of the sofa. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed Etien and pulled him into his arms, as if holding him close could somehow stop the pain tearing through the Duke's body.
"Stay with me," he whispered, barely audible. A faint glow began to spread from his hands, magic, seeping into Etien's skin.
Glen leaned in, breath hitching. But the magic did nothing. Etien kept shivering, sweat pouring down his temples. The panic clawing at Glen's chest finally broke loose.
