Chapter 9“Such a shame about your pretty face,” Starr said, his bitter breath and clove cologne suffocating. He raised his fist. Elis saw it coming, but could do nothing, couldn’t defend, couldn’t move. Rage turned to fear, choking him. He couldn’t breathe. Another hit. Pain seared through him. He wanted to fall, to give in, surrender. The pain was endless.
“Elis? Elis! Breathe for me.”
Elis gagged. His eyes flew open. Latham was above him, hair mussed around his face, his blind eyes wide and scared.
“Come on, love. Please breathe.”
Elis coughed, inhaled and managed to draw enough breath to stop the growing panic. Latham’s grip on him was close to painful, but Elis clung to it, to his strength. He reached up and clutched a fistful of Latham’s shirt. His heart thumped painfully against
