CHAPTER 52
Lucian dropped to his knees, Isabella's weight a shuddering heat against his chest. She was clawing at her own throat, her fingers leaving red marks on her skin as she fought an enemy that was already inside her.
"Hey—hey, look at me." Lucian dragged her closer, one arm locking around her back as the bond screamed in his skull.
His voice fractured, stripped of command, raw with a panic he hadn't felt in centuries. "Breathe. Stay with me."
She couldn't. Black veins—the physical manifestation of the blight—were already spider-webbing out from the corners of her mouth, racing down her neck toward her heart.
Every time she tried to inhale, the shadows thickened, turning her breath into a wet, rattling wheeze.
"She... she's drowning in it," Clara whispered, dragging herself across the floorboards.
Her face was deathly pale, her eyes fixed on the way Isabella's body was arching in Lucian's arms.
