Alexander's POV:

She doesn't move when I pull her off the floor.

That's the part that does something to my chest I don't have a name for—her complete stillness, the way her head tips against my shoulder without any of the resistance she usually puts into everything. Her skin is ice against my neck. Her lips are the wrong color. I tighten my grip and get moving and I don't think, because thinking right now is something I cannot afford.

"Karl." ...