Page 111 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

I haul myself around the first floor, knowing it’s useless. She’s upstairs.

Eli rushes in after me, and he’s hot on my heels up the steps, down the hall to her room.

I hesitate for the barest of seconds outside her door, then twist the knob and shove it open. Worry strangles me, but I can’t stop moving.

She’s not in bed.

“Riley—”

“Stop,” I snap.

I find her in the master bathroom. She’s sitting on the floor, her legs extended out and her back against the sink cabinet. My heart cracks open.

“No, no, no,” I chant.

I fall to my knees beside her and grab her shoulders.

“Mom. Wake up.” My eyes are burning.

Her eyes are closed.

Her whole body is limp.

“How many are supposed to be in here?” Eli asks, handing me a bottle.

I scan the label, but I can’t even read it. My vision is blurred by tears.

“We need to call an ambulance,” I choke out. “But…”

I can’t do it.

Noah being strapped to a gurney flashes in front of my eyes. He was helpless—sick, but utterly dependent on the EMTs and orderlies who took him away.

“I’ve got it,” Eli says. He disappears from the bathroom.

I can make out the tone of his voice as he talks to the dispatcher. It isn’t too panicked, but it’s quick. He’s nervous.

My attention zooms back in on my mother.

“Riley, check and see if she has a pulse—and if she’s breathing.”

I check her pulse first, waiting a few seconds to feel her carotid artery in her neck. Her pulse is there, but it seems too weak. Her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

“Yes to both,” I say. I smooth back her hair, and her eyelids flutter. “She has a cut on her forehead, too.”

He relays the information. “They’ll be here in five.”

Those five minutes drag out. Each second is an agonizing hour.

I just hold on to her cold hand and pray to whoever will listen.

“Here,” Eli directs. He leads the first responders to the bathroom. “Riley, come on.”

I’m frozen. I can’t stop staring at her face. There’s a bit of blood streaked down her temple that was hidden by her hair and the way her face was tilted, but now it’s abundantly clear that she must’ve knocked it against something hard.

Hands slip under my armpits, locking just under my breasts. I’m lifted away from my mother.

An awful sound fills the room.