Marcus came back with a sharp intake of breath.
His body reacted before his mind did, muscles tensing hard against pain as his eyes snapped open. The first thing he felt was pressure—weight across his chest, heat flaring deep inside his ribs—and his instincts screamed at him to move. To roll. To get up. To find the threat before it found him again.
"Rob—"
The name died in his throat.
He tried to push himself upright, ignoring the spike of pain that tore through his chest and sent his vision blurring at the edges. The world wasn't stone beneath his hands. It shifted. Rocked. That alone was enough to throw him off balance, confusion crashing into adrenaline as his breathing turned sharp and uneven.
"Marcus."
A hand pressed down on his shoulder.
Firm. Immediate. Real.
"Stay still."
