The sterile, white-tiled hallway of the infirmary wing doesn't feel like a place of healing right now. Beneath all the grief weighing the atmosphere down, this place now feels like a tomb. It has been three days since Morgan vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a trail of violet fire and a broken family.
Three days. Heidi's feet are heavy, her heart even heavier. She leans into Darien's side, whose arms are wrapped around her shoulders. He is trying to be her anchor, but she can feel the frantic skip of his pulse against her skin. He is just as terrified as she is.
"One mate is in a shroud, and another is a ghost," Heidi's wolf whispers somberly. "We are losing them, Heidi. We are falling apart."
