Ainsley stood over Eloise’s unconscious form, his eyes scanning her prone body. His mind was in turmoil, but his focus was sharp. He didn’t break the mental link. His gaze was locked on Eloise as she lay motionless on the bed.
He moved closer, his hands trembling with a mixture of frustration and confusion. He pushed her aside gently and, with a steady breath, lifted her shirt.
As her shirt slowly moved upward, his eyes fell on her waist.
What he saw stopped him cold.
A gruesome, jagged scar marred the skin on her left side. Ainsley’s pupils constricted, his heart thundering painfully in his chest. The breath caught in his throat.
Our mate... Adrian’s voice was pained, distant. I can’t feel her... not properly. The words cut through Ainsley’s mind like ice. There was only the faintest
