Actually, no.
It wasn't too late.
In a blur of motion that Rowan's failing vision could barely process, a figure appeared directly in front of the swerving car.
Lucian Vale in all his glory!
He stood in the middle of the street, his hands outstretched, and when the car hit him...
It stopped.
Not gradually, not with screeching brakes. It stopped as if it had hit a solid wall instead of a human body.
Rowan's head snapped forward from the momentum, his seatbelt catching him, and through his blurred vision he saw the impossible sight of Lucian standing there, his hands pressed against the hood of the car, holding it in place with nothing but raw strength.
The car hadn't even budged him. It hadn't moved him an inch.
Rowan's tired eyes widened weakly as he stared, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.
Then the stress, the exhaustion, the sheer impossibility of it all became too much.
