Alexander’s POV It was the dead of the night and a jarring cry cut through the darkness, yanking me awake. My heart pounded as I struggled to rouse myself from the fog of sleep. Instinctively, my gaze flipped to Catherine; there she was twisting in agony, her breaths coming in shallow, pained gasps. “Catherine?” My voice was rough, but the urgency in it was clear. I reached out, touching her arm, which was damp with sweat. Her face was contorted in pain, eyes wide with a fear that made my stomach drop. “I—Alexander...” She choked out, her voice barely a whisper through the pain. Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with desperation. “Something’s wrong.” I scrambled out of bed, my mind racing with panic and confusion. “What’s happening? What can I do?” Without a word, Catherine pulled the sheets down. I froze. I literally froze; for seconds unending, my blood ran cold. The sheets were stained with blood, a dark, alarming red. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a wave of nausea
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