Third person POV
Enzo’s chest tightened as the roar of the crowd echoed in his ears, drowning every thought but the sight of Lisa sprawled in the middle of the bloodied ring. Her body looked lifeless, her chest rising and falling shallowly, her skin pale and slick with sweat. For a brief, chilling moment, he thought her spirit had already left her body. Without a second’s hesitation, he broke through the circle, shoving aside the wolves who crowded too close, his boots echoing against the wooden floor of the ring box as he reached her.
“Lisa!” His voice cracked as he fell to his knees beside her, his arms slipping beneath her limp frame. She was drenched in blood—hers and Irene’s—but Enzo couldn’t tell which wound belonged to which. All he knew was that her pulse had to be there, had to
