*Saoirse*
Axureon's tilted the antidote into Rhys' pallid lips. His movements were precise, even though his brow furrowed with an uncertainty that chilled my heart. I watched silently on the brink of despair as each drop slipped past Rhys' mouth.
"Swallow, young master," Axureon whispered, more a plea than a command as he massaged his throat. "Your family needs you." His voice, usually so robust and commanding, was now quiet and uncertain. It made the ice in my veins spread even further.
I couldn't tear my gaze away from Rhys' ashen face, the stark contrast to his once vibrant features gnawing at my insides. My husband was a strong, powerful man. Thanks to Alexa and her insanity and jealousy, he had been reduced to the lifeless body that lay before me.
I left Alexa to Saphira and stood vigil over Rhys’ body. I couldn’t lose him. “I won’t,” I whispered on repeat.
