Aidan.
Adrien's body felt heavier than it should have as we carried him through the corridors.
Davian held one side while I supported the other, Damien walking ahead of us to push open the doors that stood in our way. Blood had soaked through Adrien's shirt, dark and thick, staining our hands as it dripped slowly onto the stone floor beneath our hurried steps.
He hadn't moved.
Not once.
His head hung slightly to the side, his breathing shallow and uneven.
"Careful," Davian muttered through clenched teeth as we entered Adrien's room.
We laid him down carefully on the bed, but the moment his body touched the mattress, the reality of his condition struck harder than before.
His skin had gone pale.
Too pale.
And the blood loss was worse than I had first realized.
"Where is the healer?" Damien barked, already pacing near the door.
