DARRAGH'S POV

I lay on the floor, my body broken and bloodied, watching my father's limp form. His chest rose and fell in shallow bursts. Still alive. My mind struggled to process what had just happened. How Sara had seemingly stopped him with nothing but an outstretched hand.

The room spun around me. Blood pooled beneath my cheek, warm and sticky. Every breath sent daggers of pain through my ribs.

"We need to get him to the healer!" my mother screamed, her voice cracking. "Now!"

Eamon snapped ...