Chapter 38
Kross
I crouched beside him, narrowing my eyes at the pale, flushed face that looked nothing like the cocky pain in the ass I was used to.
"Vaughn," I said under my breath, and lightly patted his cheek.
Nothing.
"Vaughn," I tried again, a little louder this time, smacking his face just hard enough to make my frustration known.
Still nothing. No groan. No grumble. Not even a flinch.
Damn it.
He was out cold.
I rubbed my forehead, teeth gritted as I stood back up and stared down at him. Since morning, he’d looked like a ghost. Lethargic. Uncoordinated. Like his brain had left the building and his body was about to follow. What kind of wound could make someone this out of it?
Maybe he was faking it. Maybe it was just another stunt.
But then I touched his forehead.
Burni
