Ilona felt her heart stop, and her vision wavered. This couldn't be happening.
They had to be wrong.
She stood frozen in place, watching as Jamie and Pierce Vane carried the person closer to the fire and gently eased them to the ground. As they did, the canvas sides of the hammock lowered, revealing the man inside.
Ilona inhaled sharply and stumbled forward a few steps before her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees in front of the body. Her hands clamped over her mouth as she felt herself struggling to breathe. It was as if she couldn't remember how. She couldn't remember anything.
Mason lay on the hammock in front of her, his body very still. She stared at his face, covered in dirt and rust-colored blood. There was a slash of dark scarlet over one cheek, and she saw it was the place where he'd had his stitches. The wound had reopened, and fresh blood was seeping out of it.
