"Your Grace! Lady Iyana! Are you okay?"
The panicked voices echoed around Vyan, mingling with the buzz in his head from the sudden crash. Darkness enveloped him, shards of debris digging into his skin as he struggled to regain his bearings.
A weight pressed down on him, and a chilling sensation ran down his neck—a thick liquid, far from the rainwater, seeping into his awareness.
Struggling to push the weight off, Vyan's heart pounded as Clyde smashed through the splintered door, flooding the wreckage with blinding light.
Blinking against the glare, Vyan's eyes focused on the limp figure atop him—Iyana, unconscious, blood tracing a sinister path from her head.
Her arms were still wrapped protectively around him, almost as if…
Almost as if she protected me from the impact of the accident—
Now, it came back to him.
