I reach for my core and bring my hand back. The sight of strings of blood drags another scream from me. As I wail at the viscous rouge fluid webbing my fingers, Clay pushes my hand from view. He cups my cheeks, directing my pooling eyes to his piercing blue orbs, a stark sight amidst the dread blurring my vision. "Don't look, Fawn." My name. Don’t look. The combination of those words twists my heart.