ARYA

It started with a nosebleed. One moment, Daxton was sitting beside me on the couch, his eyes glassy from fever and exhaustion, the bowl of untouched soup cooling in his lap. The next, blood was oozing from his nose, trailing down over his mouth and chin.

"Shit...Daxton—" I scrambled for a tissue, my fingers trembling so badly I fumbled with the box three times before yanking one free.

He blinked at me slowly.

I pressed the tissue to his nose, trying to tilt his ...