Eden’s POV

I hurry and get dressed, running from the store to see Mason laid out on the concrete next to the car we drove out here. Falling to his side, I can’t find the worst wound on his body, finding countless cuts and bloody splotches seeping through his clothes.

“Ma—Mason,” I pant, my eyes blurred with frantic, scared tears. “Can you hear me? Can you move?”

He only growls, holding his hip where blood covers his palm. I peel his fingers ...