A sickening wave of dread crashes through me. I shove past Kael, dropping to my knees. “Put him down,” I demand, already reaching for Dawson.
Aelith doesn’t move. His hold tightens, and his glowing eyes snap to mine, narrowed with something sharp and territorial. Protective.“No.” His voice is low, warning.
I don’t care. I push against him, trying to pry Dawson from his grip. “He’s not breathing, Aelith. Let me help him.”
Aelith growls, the sound curling around my ribs like an instinctive threat. His aura pulses—a presence pressing against me, telling me to back off.A flicker of fear claws through my chest. He’s terrifying like this.
But I don’t stop.
I can’t.
Kael moves before I can even react. He steps between us, hand pressing firmly against Aelith’s shoulder, voice low and even. “Let him go.”
Aelith’s glowing markings pulse bright, his chest rising and falling too fast, his grip still tight on Dawson.
“Aelith.” Kael grips Aelith’s shoulder. “Let Sonny help him. They are both human.”
For a moment, I think the prince will fight him. That he’ll shove me away and keep Dawson caged in his arms. But Kael doesn’t back down. His hold is solid, grounding.
Something shifts.
Aelith blinks, his gaze flicking to mine. There must be something there—desperation, maybe—because he exhales sharply and lowers Dawson to the floor.
I don’t waste time. I press my fingers to Dawson’s throat. His pulse is there—weak, but there.But his chest isn’t moving.
Not breathing.
I shove my panic deep, letting muscle memory take over. Nightclub work in Sydney—drunk idiots, overdoses, accidents. I’ve done this before. I can do it again.
I tilt Dawson’s head back, open his airway, check for obstructions. Nothing.
“Come on, come on,” I mutter, pinching his nose and sealing my mouth over his. I breathe for him. Watch his chest rise.
Again.
And again.
Aelith is silent after his first low warning rumble when I sealed my mouth over Dawson’s. I glance up. Kael isn’t watching Dawson. He’s watching me.I feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of it, but I can’t afford the distraction. I focus and breathe for Dawson.
One, two, three?—
A shudder jerks through Dawson’s body. He coughs, his whole frame spasming as he sucks in a rattling breath.
Relief slams into me so hard, I nearly collapse. He’s breathing.He’s breathing.But he’s still unconscious.
I press my fingers to his pulse again, steadying myself. “We need help. We need Aeroth.Now.”
Kael doesn’t hesitate. He turns, calling for help—his voice sharp, commanding. Aelith doesn’t move.
I glance at him. His expression is stricken, his intense eyes locked on Dawson’s face like he can will him to wake up. Then, without a word, Aelith sinks to the floor beside him, his composure crumbling. He grabs Dawson’s hand in both of his, bowing his head, his shoulders shaking.
It’s not the reaction of a prince. It’s the reaction of someone who cares.
Aeroth, our medic, arrives, kneeling beside me. I keep my voice steady as I run her through everything—pulse, breathing, response. She nods, moving efficiently as she checks Dawson over. Then she lifts him onto a stretcher brought in by a couple of Jigderias, Aelith rising instantly to follow.
Kael hesitates. He’s looking at me.
I realise—too late—that I’m shaking. My hands won’t stay steady. Adrenaline crash.
