Reed POV:
I didn't want to hurt her.
But damn it, she was swinging that sharp stick like a wild animal, the blood still dripping from the point where it had pierced Blaze's chest. She was in a frenzy, her eyes wide with madness, her movements desperate. The banshee had its grip on her mind, pulling her into the depths of darkness. She couldn't see us anymore—couldn't see the truth. And as much as I wanted to reason with her, I couldn't.
She wasn't Clare anymore.
She was just a puppet, controlled by the monsters in the fog.
Without thinking, I grabbed the stick, yanking it from her grasp. She screamed, but I held her steady, pulling her against me. I put just enough pressure on her carotid sinus—just enough to knock her out, to stop the madness.
Her body went limp in my arms, and for a second, I thought I had done the right thing. I thought it would be better, that she would be safe, that I could hold her and protect her from everything trying to tear us apart.
