Nina

Griffin stumbles into the motel room, his steps uneven, blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt. My stomach drops as I rush to him, catching him just before he collapses.

“Griff!” I shout, shaking him. His skin is cold, his breathing shallow.

“E-Elijah…” he manages, his voice barely audible before his eyes flutter closed.

“Elijah?” I repeat, my voice rising with panic. “Griffin, stay with me!”

Jaxon is already at my side, his expression grim as he kneels next ...