RETH (A few minutes earlier)
Reth lay on his back in the grass of the meadow, hands in his hair, his breath tearing in his throat as every fiber of him fought not to hear Brant's words—not to see the path he painted. But Jayah had warned him… he'd seen Elia's face… heard her screams… and watched Aymora pale.
His mate was dying. Unless something changed, his mate was dying. And their daughter with her.
"Please…" he groaned to the Creator. "Please…"
"Don't give up hope, Reth," Brant said gently, one hand on Reth's arm that was bent up from where he gripped his own hair. "But be ready to face whatever the Creator would bring. Sometimes we can't see the good He's working until it happens."
Behryn sighed and squeezed Reth's other arm. "Reth, I know this is horrible, but don't—"
