*Lyra*
“Jorin?”
I rush over to his bed. It’s still warm, and there’s a trace of blood on the sheets.
“Jorin!” I shout both with my mouth and through the mind-link. “Where the f**k are you?”
A moment later, the back door squeaks open. I wheel, ready to fight, and am relieved to see it’s him, stumbling in, his arm bleeding through the bandage.
I hurry over to Jorin. “What the f**k were you doing?”
“Had to hit the head.” He sounds exhausted, and possibly disoriented.
Supporting him on the side away from his injured arm, I steer him back over to his bed and help him lie down. “Next time, use a jar or something. For f**k’s sake, you scared the s**t out of me. And it doesn’t make much sense for you to go outside when you’re bleeding all over the place.”
I go lock the back door and drop
