Thorne's POV
The coppery stench of blood hit me like a physical blow. For one frozen second, I just stared at the nurse’s crumpled body, her mask askew now, revealing a face I didn’t recognize. Young. Ordinary. The kind of face you’d forget in a crowd. Except she’d just tried to murder my wife and then chosen death over capture.
My wolf surged forward, claws ripping through my fingertips. “Tyler, get guards to Elara’s room. Now.”
I didn’t wait for his reply. I kicked the syringe lying on the floor. The needle hadn’t touched the port. Thank the Goddess. I ripped the sheet off the bed and pressed it hard against the nurse’s throat out of habit, but the blood kept coming. She was already gone.
Elara stirred at the commotion, her eyelids fluttering. “Thorne…?” Her voice was hoarse and weak
