The first thing I did was check Dorian over. No blood, no cuts—but his face was pale. Not just pale, 'scared' pale.

'Ashton wouldn’t have looked like that,' I thought before I could stop myself. Another reminder that Dorian wasn’t him.

Still, that didn’t mean I could just walk away and leave him there. I stepped through the mess, glass crunching under my high heels, and stopped beside him. “What happened?”

Dorian didn’t answer. He ...