He felt so fragile beneath my grip, a stark contrast to the powerful man who usually ruled this house.

Dr. Voss snapped the top off the first glass vial.

She drew the liquid into the syringe with a practiced, steady hand.

“Hold him,” she commanded.

I braced my weight against Alexander’s forearm, pressing it flat against the mattress.

The needle gleamed under the flickering ceiling light.

Dr. Voss slid the point into the vein at the crook of his elbow.

Alexander’s body immediately went rigid.

A low, painful groan escaped his dry lips, and his eyes flew open, though they were vacant and unfocused.

“Hold him tight!” Dr. Voss raised her voice, pushing the plunger down slowly.

Alexander’s muscles tightened like steel cables.

He began to shudder violently, his chest heaving as he fought for air.

Sofia sobbed, turning her face away.

Marcus watched with a cold, unblinking intensity, his hand still resting on his gun.

“The second vial,” Dr. Voss muttered, dropping the empty syringe and grabbing another. “Nina, do not let go.”

My muscles burned as I pressed down on Alexander’s arm, my palms slipping against his cold sweat.