"Carcel?" Ines whispered.
He did not answer. He swayed on his feet, his large frame tilting forward like a falling tree.
Ines stepped forward just as his knees gave way. She braced herself, catching him by the waist. The impact nearly knocked the breath out of her. He was heavy—solid muscle and dead weight.
"Carcel!" she gasped, her arms wrapping around his torso to keep him from hitting the floor.
He slumped against her, his head dropping onto her shoulder. His cheek pressed against her neck, and Ines froze.
His skin was not just warm. It was hot. It radiated a terrifying, dry heat that seemed to burn through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
"You are burning up," Ines said, panic rising in her chest.
She pulled back slightly to look at him. His eyes were half-closed, glassy and unfocused. His face was flushed with an angry red color, a stark contrast to the pale exhaustion she had seen earlier.
