Nora's POV
I sprint back to Brent and drop to my knees beside his motionless body. My hands shake as I pull off my jacket and drape it across his chest. Blood covers his neck and torso, dark and sticky against his pale skin.
"Brent?" My fingers search frantically along his throat for a pulse. I can barely tell if the rapid beating I feel belongs to him or me.
Mack circles us in the shadows, helping me drag Brent toward the gravel road cutting through the forest. The djinn lies broken behind us, but I can already hear her bones starting to mend.
"Stay with me," I whisper, wrapping my jacket sleeve around a gash on his wrist. My voice cracks with desperation. "Help is coming."
I press my palm against his injured wrist, concentrating on healing him. Nothing happens. The familiar warmth that should flow through me remains dormant, useless when I need it most.
