Out on the highway, Zayne's car screeched to a sudden halt.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw it—a massive fireball consuming everything in its path.
In the passenger seat, Anya pressed against him, her soft voice trembling with lingering fear. "Zayne, I feel awful. Can we just go to the hospital? Please?"
His hands gripped the steering wheel, shaking uncontrollably.
He kept staring at that fiery sky reflected in the mirror, telling himself that the guy he'd brought in was top-notch, and Aurora would be fine.
Then he stomped on the gas.
At the hospital, they got Anya settled into one of the best rooms.
She didn't have a scratch on her, but she still clung to Zayne, whining that something felt wrong.
Zayne sat nearby, nodding along distractedly.
But his heart felt like a boul
