Damian’s POV

Elara had stopped moving.

That was the thing I could not get past. She had her ear against ribs no wider than two of my fingers, listening while our son lay silent across her arm. Every second she did nothing was a second no one would ever give back.

“Elara.”

“Wait.”

“He isn’t breathing.”

“I said wait.”

She turned him facedown and struck him between the shoulders, harder this time. Once. Twice. Three times.

His head rolled with each blow. The fist tucked beneath his chin did not open.

Claire sagged against my chest.

The bond weakened so suddenly that panic tore through me. She was still trying...