Ross's entire body convulsed.
He lurched forward and spat out a second mouthful of thick, dark blood.
It splattered across the floor with a wet slap, mixing with the first pool and spreading outward in a crimson smear.
Gasps and cries erupted from the women.
"ROSS!!"
"Stop, you're going to kill yourself!"
But before anyone could grab him, Ross's eyes rolled slightly, and he collapsed.
His knees buckled, and his body swayed like a falling tree.
This time he didn't even try to catch himself.
He dropped.
Several pairs of hands lunged forward and caught him just before he hit the ground.
Giana held his left arm, Miku caught his shoulder, and even Libby—still trembling from the healing—reached forward with wide, grateful eyes.
Ross lay limp in their arms, head tilted back, breaths shallow.
His face was almost paper-white, glowing faintly under the dim basement lighting.
A fresh trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Yet, somehow, he managed a smile.
