The sharp, burning pain radiated from Luke's abdomen, a sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced. Blood seeped between his fingers as he pressed his hand firmly against the wound, trying to stem the flow. His breaths were shallow, each one feeling like fire in his lungs.
Confidant Altreus sneered at him, his face twisted in triumph and desperation. Confidant Altreus sent Luke stumbling back with a shove before turning toward the exit. The elf bolted for the door, his steps hurried and uneven, his singed robes flapping behind him.
"Ilyrana!" Luke's voice was hoarse but resolute. He clutched at her arm as she knelt beside him, her face etched with worry. "Don't let him escape!"
She hesitated, her hands trembling as she looked at the wound.
"Luke—"
"Go!" he insisted, his voice firmer this time. "I'll be fine. Just don't let him get away!"