Eli's stomach dropped, his breath stuttering hard in his chest.
'I can't believe he heard that! Has he been listening the whole time?'
His mouth opened, desperate to get the words out—but nothing came. His throat burned raw, every syllable caught like barbed wire.
Only a rasp escaped, a shallow scrape of air.
His chest heaved violently, each breath dragging fire across his ribs, the echo of suffocation clawing through his lungs.
'Come on. Speak. Say something. Anything.'
But silence was all he could give.
The monitor betrayed him again.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Each pulse of sound rang louder, sharper, like it was mocking him.
Kairo's crimson gaze narrowed—not cruel, not angry, but sharp enough to cut bone.
Under that stare, Eli felt flayed open, as if every failed attempt to speak, every scream trapped in his chest, was laid bare for Kairo to see.
Then—without a word—Kairo moved.
