POV: Damien
Marrow reached out just before the sun came up.
The screen on my desk flickered with static for a few seconds before the picture cleared. It was a grainy, live video feed. It had been bounced through so many different servers to hide its location that the quality was terrible, but I could see exactly what I needed to see.
Gideon.
He looked worse than the last time I’d seen him. He wasn't just thin; he looked like he was wasting away. His shoulders were slumped, and his head hung low, like he’d finally learned that fighting back only brought more pain. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there was dried, dark blood on the corner of his mouth.
But he was breathing.
It was shallow and shaky, but he was alive.
I gripped the edge of my desk so hard my knuckles turned white
