Kaelen was up the stone stairs in a single, supernatural leap, his massive arms instantly taking Gwen's body from Lucien's grip. He didn't speak; his golden eyes were wide with a silent, feral terror as he cradled her against his chest, sprinting down the corridor toward the private royal wing where the air was still pure.
They laid her on the low leather dais, the same mattress where they had celebrated their return just hours prior. Kaelen dropped to his knees beside her, his large hands rubbing her frozen fingers, trying to pour his own immense, physical Lycan heat into her skin. "Wake up, Gwen. Please. The smoke is gone. You did it. Just open your eyes."
