"Serena!" Fin was holding her, the mark on his arm flaring hot.
Serena's eyes were completely black, with no whites or iris. The aesthetic of someone having the worst week in recorded history.
They were in Drakenfell's infirmary and Fin held her in his arms, sitting on a bed in a private room
"Do something," Fin gritted out, his head snapping up to Alaric. Then he looked at Aeron. "Someone."
"You have wards. How is it Dark Fae?" Hyran snapped.
"Something has latched onto her," Aeron answered, voice calm. "She came back to Shadowclaw today with a fever, but said she was fine. Whatever it is, it's not shadow-tether related. But it is definitely Fae."
Alaric nodded, hands glowing, and he shoved everything he had into Serena with a force that made the air in the room compress.
He stopped after a moment, panting, sweat beading along his temples, his hands trembling in a way Serena had never seen from him and couldn't see now.
