Alias's heart was hammering more tragically now.
They were bandits but they had all died to one man's effort, brutally hacked down with an axe.
Alias's gaze whipped toward the house. A part of the wooden wall he had watched Theo carefully carve was completely wrecked, splintered outward as if from a heavy impact. Another dead bandit lay slumped against the broken beams, his chest caved in.
And in the middle of the ruined yard, kneeling in the blood-soaked grass, was Maya.
She was sobbing hysterically, her entire body shaking as her hands pressed desperately against Theo's stomach.
Theo had collapsed on his back, his tanned face a ghostly, bloodless white, his blue eyes glazed and staring blankly at the sky. Beneath Maya's small, trembling fingers, a deep, jagged stab wound was pouring hot, heavy blood over the grass.
"Theo! Please, stay awake! Theo, look at me!" Maya screamed, her voice breaking into a ragged shriek.
