Chapter 224

• Joaquin Latham turned toward Zayla Steele. He jerked his arm, and this time he slipped free with no effort. He looked at Zay’s face—so pale it held no trace of life—and his body gave out. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor.
• A sharp pain stabbed through his kneecaps. The shock snapped him back. He gently lifted her sleeve, looked at her fingers, and his pupils tightened. His heart lurched like something yanked it hard.
• In his mind, Zay’s hands had always been fair and slender, those graceful fingers dancing over strings, faint pink at the tips. Now her hands were wrapped in gauze, and her fingertips were riddled with tiny pinpricks.