Elder Yona does her best to contain the disorder as screams fill our surroundings. Her voice cuts through the noise in sharp commands, but panic has already taken root, spreading faster than the sickness ever could. Viola’s eyes grow wide with fear as some of the blood splatter drips down her cheek.
Sylas is calling out for help as he tries to get out from under Monica’s limp body. Standing there, frozen, I watch the scene unfold before me. Everything feels wrong. It’s way too alive for someone who isn’t moving. Blood streaks the stone floor beneath Monica, while the smell of iron burns at the back of my throat.
“We have to move,” Oliver warns, his voice cutting through the chaos, even as it sounds far away.
When I snap back to my senses, I grab Viola and shove her toward Oliver, barely
