Ella Holden’s POV
Marcus was breathing hard. I didn’t know what was happening to him. He’d been fine a moment ago. What went wrong? That was all I could think about as I raised my hand and brushed through his midnight-black hair—the kind of hair that makes you want to keep touching it.
I stroked his strands gently, and he let out a sound of relief. I whispered softly, “What’s wrong, hmm?”
He sighed, exhausted. “I’m suffering, Ella. They’re trying to control me. It hurts… so much.”
“Who?” I asked, my fingers still running through his hair.
“I don’t want them to take over. I hate them,” he muttered, sadness breaking through his voice. He didn’t really know how to explain his feelings, but somehow, I felt safe with him.
I tried to move him, but his face was buried deep against my neck,
