Finnick dropped to his knees beside Gavriel, and his voice broke on the first word.
"We'll get back to her." His hand gripped Gavriel's shoulder, the grip carrying everything he couldn't say and wouldn't say in a room full of people, the terror and the fury and the guilt from leaving his mate. "We will. But you're going to live first, because you're no use to her dead. So you are going to stay down and you are going to let them work."
Gavriel closed his eyes. His jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth. His breath shook, each exhale a tremor that ran from his chest to his fingertips, and the green magic pulsing from his body flickered in time with his heartbeat.
"What day is it?" he gritted out, sweat beading along his hairline as Hyran pushed another wave of gold into his chest.
Hyran didn't soften the answer. "Same day you left. Afternoon now. How much time passed for you?"
Gavriel's breath hitched. "At least thirty-six hours. If I had to guess."
