*Saoirse*

Axureon's tilted the antidote into Rhys' pallid lips. His movements were precise, even though his brow furrowed with an uncertainty that chilled my heart. I watched silently on the brink of despair as each drop slipped past Rhys' mouth.

"Swallow, young master," Axureon whispered, more a plea than a command as he massaged his throat. "Your family needs you." His voice, usually so robust and commanding, was now quiet and uncertain. It made the ice in my veins ...