Rissa’s POV

The poison burns like ice beneath my skin.

Every breath makes it worse.

It spreads slowly from the cut along my side, dark veins creeping outward beneath the surface while power lashes wildly inside me in response. The child reacts too. I feel it instinctively, sharply, like panic echoing through my own body.

No.

No, no, no.

Mark still has Bram lifted off the ground, claws pressed against his throat hard enough to draw blood.

“You touched her?” His voice is low. Deadly. ...