Chapter 8
Morgana’s POV:
He wasn’t moving.
I stayed crouched by Simon’s side, fingers hovering just above his neck, unsure if I wanted to know what I might—or might not—find.
“Xavier…” My voice came out lower than I meant it to, nearly drowned by the thud of my heartbeat in my ears. “What if you—”
“I didn’t hit him that hard,” Xavier said, but his voice lacked conviction. It wasn't convincing neither was he sure that he didn't hit him dead.
We both stared at the man lying motionless on the cold balcony floor, the evening breeze rustling his shirt slightly.
I reached out and touched Simon’s neck—then sighed with relief. “He’s breathing.”
Xavier exhaled. “Good. Then I won’t have to spend the night in a jail cell.”
I looked up at him. “But you might still have to deal with a lawsuit.
