(JASPER'S POV)
"Mason?" Helen tugged at his sleeve. "Mason, what is it? You're white as a sheet, what—"
Mason didn't answer. He turned, and he moved.
He crossed the throne room at a run, Helen still clutched against his shoulder, and he didn't stop until he reached the pink-haired boy — Jake, I remembered, Blake's mate — and pushed Helen into his arms.
"Hold her," Mason said. His voice was wrong. Flat and far away.
"Wait — Mason, what—"
"Hold her."
And then Mason bolted for the throne.
Blue was already rising. He came off the chair like a shadow peeling itself free of the dark, and he caught Mason before Mason had even fully reached him — one arm around his back, one hand cradling the back of his head, pulling him in so completely that Mason just collapsed into him, face buried in Blue's chest.
And Mason started to cry.
