Isabella Hawthorne
My vision remained blurry, the world wavering like a mirage in the desert heat. The Elf King stood bathed in the emergency lights, his voice a distant echo in the vast emptiness that had become my mind. My gaze darted around the room, taking in the horrifying aftermath. The lycan was gone, replaced by a pulsating green cocoon.
Then, a hand landed on my shoulder, warm and solid. It jerked me back to reality. I whirled around, expecting the Elf King's cold gaze, but instead, Eirik's cerulean eyes swam with concern.
"Are you alright?"
I blinked, my throat raw and scratchy. Words seemed to elude me, trapped somewhere deep within the terror that had gripped me. He didn't wait for a response, kneeling before me on the cold floor. His touch, gentle but firm, sent a jolt
