Liam’s jaw tightened. Deep down, an instinct told him that Oliver wasn’t merely confused. Their bond, fortified over the years, assured him that Oliver’s words carried weight. He couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that something, somewhere, was amiss.
So he waited. Liam remained steadfast, a sentinel beside Oliver’s bed. Days melded into nights as he kept his unwavering vigil, hoping against hope to hear Oliver speak once more. It seemed as though Oliver had expended every ounce of his energy on that cryptic message, leaving him drained and silent. But after what felt like an eternity, Oliver’s voice, weak yet discernible, pierced the silence.