Before Rowan could step into Wren's open arms, something tugged at him through his liminal senses.
He gasped at the spasm of pain behind his sternum, unable to tell if it was because of the poison or because of that strange tugging. An uneasy feeling settled over him.
Wren frowned. "What is it?"
"I don't know…"
"We are leaving." Done with waiting for Rowan to come to him, Wren grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him over, careful not to touch his skin.
At the same time, the pain came again, this time squeezing Rowan's heart like it was little more than overripe piece of fruit trapped in a vice. He pressed both hands to his chest.
The tugging he'd felt inside him turned into a yanking sensation so intense, he began to claw at his shirt over his sternum in search of relief. The walls of the illusion blurred.
