17
Tender fingers caressed the side of his head as a gentle voice counseled, “Slow down, Puck. Slow down your breaths, or you’re going to hyperventilate.”
Ava.
He was being guided with a soft nudge, and his legs were moving him somewhere. Vision still hazy, he followed that touch and voice like a meek child, allowing himself to be led somewhere quiet. Gradually, the dark tunnel receded, and his circle of vision grew until he found himself on the leather couch in Kingdom’s office. Puck heaved in a huge breath of air. The booming bass of music from outside reverberated under his feet, but otherwise, everything was quiet. Near the open door, Whistle hung back, shifting on the balls of his feet.
Ava’s face hovered in front of him. Lifting a finger in the center of his eyeline, she urged, “
