Rowan worked quickly to absorb what he could of Wren's poison, determined to fill himself with as much of it as he could so that Wren didn't have to feel the pain on his own.
Wren was unresponsive now except for the occasional incoherent words that fell from his lips as evidence of his struggle.
He lay half in Rowan's lap and half on the ground, arms wrapped loosely around Rowan's waist. His black lashes quivered against fever-pink cheeks as his eyelids refused to open.
A sense of panic hovered over Rowan, ready to morph into something larger if he paid it too much attention.
The pain of Wren's past was poison enough on its own, but now with the catalyst of the Creature's Fear giving it strength…it wouldn't rest until it consumed him.
The black haze of the poison had spread everywhere, sprawling toward them from all directions like a weed that came to life at the sound of Rowan's voice.
