Nash’s pov
The blood in my veins wasn't just burning, it was boiling into liquid rot.
I stood in the center of the subterranean isolation cell beneath the estate, my heavy hands clutching the thick iron bars of the outer gate. The air down here was cold, damp, and reeked of stone dust and rust, but I couldn't breathe. Every breath I pulled into my lungs felt like broken glass tearing through my chest.
Outside, high above the subterranean stone arches, the full moon was climbing to its peak.
I could feel its silver pull dragging at my spirit like an iron chain. My jaw locked, my teeth grinding together so hard my gums bled. The manic gene inherited from my bloodline surged through my system, amplified a thousand times over by the dark, festering void inside my chest.
Chloe was gone.
T
