Ash's POV
The sound that tore from Opal's throat wasn't human.
A sharp, ragged gasp, like someone was pulling the air from her lungs.
Ash didn't think. Didn't hesitate.
One second, he was lying in bed, his mind refusing to shut off despite exhaustion pulling at his limbs.
The next, he was ripping open her door.
Kael and Ridge were right behind him, but Ash barely registered them.
His focus was only on her.
Opal was on her hands and knees, body convulsing, her fingers clawing at the wooden floor as if she were trying to hold onto reality itself.
Her silver hair was drenched in sweat, strands clinging to her face. Her skin—gods, her skin. It was gray. Sickly. Like something had reached into her and rotted her from the inside.
Her lips trembled. Her breaths came in uneven, hollowed-out gasps.
Ash's stomach twisted violently.
He had seen Opal broken before. He had seen her covered in blood, bruises marring her skin, body shaking from exhaustion.
But never like this.
