Jasmine Yale's breaths were faltering, as thin as a thread.
Sylvan Cheney lifted her from the ground and held her closely.
This little fool, why didn't she leave, why did she block the final blow for him? He would rather it be he who died, not her.
"Jasy, don't sleep, don't sleep..."
Sylvan's eyes were bright red, he held her in his arms against his broad chest.
The blood on Jasmine Yale's neck won't stop bleeding and it keeps flowing, her limbs were progressively getting colder.
Sylvanity was beyond panic. At this rate, without him taking her out, she could die from excessive blood loss.
"Jasy, don't sleep, I will talk to you, okay?"
Sylvan Cheney's voice was trembling.
Because of the just-concluded struggle, his arm had long been sore and painful, but at this moment, he felt nothing.
His heart, his eyes, his brow, only had Jasmine Yale left in them.
Jasmine Yale was in a daze, she seemed to hear someone talking, calling her name.
But she seemed to see her mother...
