Jasmin's POV
Max and Elliott's gazes snapped to where I was staring, landing on Clyde's motionless form bound to a weathered wooden post at the edge of the savage encampment.
A cloth strip covered his eyes while rope secured his arms behind his back. His shirt had turned crimson with dried blood, and his head hung at an unnatural angle. Yet I could detect the subtle movement of his ribcage expanding and contracting. Relief flooded through my tense muscles.
"Thank the goddess, he's breathing," I exhaled, not realizing I had been holding my breath.
"That won't last much longer," Elliott observed grimly. "These flesh-hungry beasts aren't keeping him alive as entertainment."
During our hushed conversation, I noticed Max scanning the area with sharp focus. "Harris isn't anywhere to be seen."
My blood turned to ice as I swept my eyes across the camp again, desperately searching.
"Please tell me these monsters didn't already devour him," I whispered.
