MACKENZIE
By the time we reached the apartment complex, I could barely sit up in the car. My skin was burning, my throat felt raw, and the ache in my bones had sharpened into something almost unbearable. Every breath dragged like it had weight. My body wasn't just tired—it was failing me.
"Mackenzie, I have got you," Alistair said, his voice low and firm as he scooped me into his arms. I didn't even protest—couldn't. My head lolled against his chest as he carried me inside, my fever making everything swim around me in half-colors and shadows.
Alistair helped me lie down, his palm cupping the side of my face as he knelt beside me. I could barely see him through the haze of fever, but I felt him—his steadiness, his warmth—like a tether holding me together.
"Quinn, see if you can find so
