(MASON'S POV)
The room was large, cavernous, lit by a single flickering lantern. The floor was bare concrete, stained with something dark and old. And in the center of the room, chained to a massive iron pillar, was Blue.
My heart shattered.
Blue was on his knees, his arms chained above his head, silver chains digging into his wrists. The silver had burned his skin, leaving angry red welts that oozed and smoked. His shirt was torn, revealing pale, bruised flesh. His hair was matted with sweat and blood.
And his eyes—those beautiful, stormy blue eyes I loved so much—were wild. Blood red. Feral. Unfocused. He was muttering to himself, his voice low and broken, a constant stream of words that I couldn't quite make out.
"I won't hurt him. I won't hurt him. I won't hurt him. Mason. Mason. Mason."
How the hell did he become like this in just two and a half days?!
Tears streamed down my face. "Blue."
He stopped.
