Quinn’s POV
Darkness swallowed him fully.
It was an unending chasm that pressed on the boundaries of his thoughts, not the blackness that accompanied dusk or closed eyes. Quinn let out a gasp and reached naively for nonexistent ground and air. He was no longer alive. Only his awareness remained, trembling against a vast emptiness.
But then, like a single flame in the void, he felt it—Rowan’s bond.
Faint. Flickering. Similar to a candle stooping to avoid a storm.
“Rowan!” Quinn's voice, raspy and urgent, ripped from his throat and disappeared into the emptiness, devoured whole.
A firm, grounding hand seized his shoulder. Jace. His anchor, his mate. Quinn turned, feeling a warmth in the unending cold, even if he couldn't see him.
Despite the trembling beneath his voice, Jace mur
