Chapter 37

Barrett apparently intended to keep my smaller body blocked by his as we passed by the open lanes between buildings. The first lane was the one right next to father's inn, where Tareth had talked to Anders yesterday at the small table there while I'd gone in to confront my father. Gods, that seemed like ages ago now.

Having lost the fight for my freedom, my energy drained, I took a long time to look about me—past Barrett and Erick—and noticed that the sun was attempting to peek out through the dreary clouds that had been stifling the morning.

I managed to peek around Barrett as we made our way past the gap between The Elite Rose and the shoemaker. The lane was empty; there was no Ander sitting there whiling away his time at the table today, thanks to my father's foresight to send away any witnesses to his travesty. A woman walked down the other side of the street holding her daughter's hand. A man stepped out of his shop to shake out a rug, but neither paid any attention to what they probably saw as beggars in the back alley. Barrett prodded me along, even as my feet dragged.

I lifted my chin enough to get one last glance, catching someone exiting from the leather shop. The tired looking bearded man made me catch my breath. Evander.

He rubbed his face, fighting off exhaustion as he glanced around. For an instant, I thought I caught his eye, but Barrett's taller, bulkier body soon blocked me as we disappeared behind the next building. It was wishful thinking anyway, I realized, as I stared at Erick's gun again. Even if he had seen me, he needed to stay way or get killed.

Barrett's thick arm draped over my shoulders prevented me from trying to lag behind or even take a step ahead of him. Probably to anyone catching sight of us between the lanes, Barrett would appear to be helping a drunk friend home. I was certainly beginning to feel like one, my arm felt numb and my head fuzzy.

"So, my little pet has fallen into the bed of my enemy. Did you whore yourself out to him, like you did for me?"

I jerked away, or at least attempted to. I wanted to yell at the man, but I knew he was just trying to goad me into breaking like he'd always done.

"He's a handsome man, I suppose," Barrett continued, "I can see why you'd drop to your knees for him. The slut that you are probably couldn't wait."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands clenching into fists. I winced at the slice of pain up my forearm. No, no, no, I wasn't listening to him corrupt what I felt for Ash.

"If Lord Huxton and I had been able to complete our plans, I may have made you a squire, offered you your own home—after I was done with you, of course. But, alas, the Crown puppet, Galien, sent a mass of troops to Huxton's estate, arresting the Earl and a few of our other brethren. I suppose the Regent has won this little foray, and this puts me in the awkward position of uprooting myself to start over elsewhere."

"Why haven't you already? Why stay and risk being caught?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Oh my ignorant little pet, I just couldn't leave without my property," he intoned.

"But your home is already—"

"Gone!" he hissed, his hand grasping my neck and shaking it like I was a disobedient pup. "My estate, my servants, everything's gone, except what I could grab as I ran and what little coin Huxton could give me. And you."

"Me?"

"You. You little lying whore," his voice dropped as he leaned in even closer. "You ruined everything. You saved Count Rowland from my poison, and you told the Sterlings everything you've ever heard me say, didn't you? After the home I provided for you? After the money I paid to your family for you? You may be a worthless whore, but I own you!"

"I—" I swallowed thickly, stumbling a step as my head swam in confusion.

"And after all the distress you've caused me, I intend to return it tenfold on your useless, treacherous hide," he added darkly.

Fuck. My back tingled with ghost pain from previous canings. And I knew this would be worse than he'd ever done before. I wouldn't survive it. I don't think he intended for me to.

"I think, after I flay the skin from your bones, I'll send the remains back to Lord Ashton just so he knows what I do to property that's been deceitful. Just taking you from him isn't enough. Striking at the viscount directly isn't much of a viable option with all of his hounds looking after him, but this... " I felt his knife drift down my chest to rest just above my heart. "This resolves two things—destroying what ruined me and bringing great pain to the Sterlings, especially Ashton."

"No, no, please, don't," I found myself begging.

"But then again, maybe he won't even miss such a pitiful excuse of a boy. You're common garbage that even your father threw out. I doubt a noble like Lord Ashton would have kept such worthless slut now that he's gotten all the information he wants from you."

His words nearly buckled my legs, as they echoed many of my own thoughts in the past: that I was unworthy of Lord Ashton's attention, that I could never be good enough, that he would never want me forever. Could Barrett be right? Would Ash forget about me if I disappeared? Would Ash even care?

I closed my eyes again, tears squeezing from the corners as I fisted my tied hands together.

Yes! I screamed in my head, forcing out Barrett's malicious words. Yes, Ash would. He did care about me, had made me believe I was worthy of his affection. Had made love to me, held me, and kissed me breathless.

And Barrett wasn't going to steal that from me.

My eyes snapped open, and I glared up at the man. "He will hunt you down."

Barrett stumbled slightly at the tone and conviction in my voice, and I smugly smiled at having rattled him.

"You know he will," I pressed. "He won't rest until you—"

The slap across my cheek had me tumbling to the cobblestones. Without the free use of my hands, my shoulder hit hard, followed by my head.

Fuck, that hurt. But it was worth the brief look of fear that crossed Barrett's face at the idea of Ash hunting him forever. I rolled to my back, breathing through the throbbing pain in my head.

I'd barely managed to blink away the disorienting fog trying to drag me under before someone had grabbed me under my arm and pulled me to my feet. Since I was facing Barrett once I regained my feet, mostly, I assumed Erick was the one steadying me.

"Look at you, bleeding like a stuck pig from that little cut I gave you," Barrett sneered, and I followed his eyes to my stomach. Blood had soaked the front of my shirt at my waist, and I could feel the stickiness seeping through my pants as well.

Barrett yanked my hood back up and pulled the edges of the cloak around me, fastening a couple of the toggles across my chest to hold it closed.

"As soon as we are at the horses, I'll tie up that wound," Erick announced. "We don't have time right now to deal with it."

Barrett nodded briskly, and I was back under his arm being led to my grave, because I had no doubt that was where I was eventually headed.

We were passing another lane, the sun breaking out on my face for a few moments. I lifted it to the sky, enjoying the brief warmth that was sneaking through the clouds. The cloak now fastened tightly around my shoulders made me even hotter in the warming air.

An odd shadowy movement on the top of the building surprised me. A thief, I guessed, although I didn't think thieves were usually out during the day. Perhaps a chimney sweep, but I didn't see any brooms in his hand. The figure was crouched on the roof, looking further down the roofline, his hands moving rapidly as he seemed to be signaling to his accomplice. When he noticed me looking up at him, he quickly ducked out of sight.

I suppose he was afraid I'd alert someone to his nefarious activities, but he needn't have worried. I had enough troubles, even though he couldn't have known that, to be worried about why he'd be skulking along the roof.

Loud, raucous laughter and singing surprised all three of us as we hurried past the next lane opening out to the main street. Erick waved us over behind the building before he poked his head around to see what was going on.

Spilling out of a tavern across the street was a large mob of drunken men, some still holding their mugs of ale. They were swaying and jostling each other as they sang some off-tune randy pub song that I'd never heard before. Barrett had shoved me out of sight against the wall, so I'd only had time to notice that there had to be at least twenty or more revelers. In the middle of the discordant voices, I recognized the distinct accent of the Captain that I'd met last night. He must have been celebrating with his men after a successful haul.

"It's just some fobbing drunks," Erick surmised, stepping back and waving Barrett to continue. His movements were jerky, anxious. He wanted to escape, but he was apparently a man with little left to lose. "Let's go. We're almost to the turn."

"Probably some of the bastards I'd hired. Miscreants," Barrett mumbled, his hand tightening on my neck.

My thoughts wandered as I began to feel oddly disconnected from my body. I wondered where Tareth was now. Had he told Ash that he couldn't find me? Would they all be looking for me by now? I hadn't seen anyone running up or down the street—only Evander coming out of the leather shop, but he was so tired I doubt he saw anything through his heavily-lidded eyes.

My eyes fell on the gun held in Erick's hand, a potent reminder of why I didn't want Ash or Tareth or anyone else anywhere near here.

I was having trouble focusing, my brain feeling strangely jumbled, almost dizzy. My mind kept racing with possibilities of ways to escape again, because if I didn't, someone who came looking for me was going to get killed—that I was sure of. Even as I continued to twist my wrists against the thin, tight rope, with the vague ambition that I could get them loose, I knew each step was taking me further away from Ash, from hope. The rope wasn't budging though, only leaving raw, bleeding cuts behind, and the movement sent shots of pain up my arm from the wound soaking my shirt.

Barrett would have to let go of me to ride his horse, wouldn't he? Would he give me my own? Maybe I could spur the horse off on its own. Or maybe on this boat he was taking me to, I'd be able to jump and swim if we weren't too far from shore. Or just jump and drown. Either would be better than staying with Barrett.

There would have to be a way. I fortified my determination to find a way back to Ash and Tareth. I'd finally found hope, a life I wanted to live, and someone I wanted to share it with. I wasn't letting Barrett steal that from me again.

"Oh hell," I heard Erick murmur as we emerged from behind the last building into the next open lane, which was apparently a major crossroad in Trienza. He had started to turn to the left, supposedly towards the path that led to the forest where the horses were waiting.

"What is it?" Barrett hissed, pulling me closer, hiding me between himself and Erick.

There were four or five men staggering towards us from the left, raising hands and shouting greetings across the lane to our right—to the revelers we had passed coming from the pub.

"The road we need to go on, it's about to get crowded," Erick said, pressing us back into the shadows behind the building, sweat breaking out on his brow at the thought of getting caught. "I suggest we wait here til they pass, or maybe go up another street—"

"Aye! And what do we have here?" a familiar voice boomed, slurring his words slightly.

The Captain staggered towards us out of the group. I could feel Barrett tighten his grip on my arm.

"Such a sweet little thing." The Captain wavered, immediately drawing Barrett's attention, along with his ire.

I noticed the revelers had stopped moving down the lane but continued to sing and sway as they laughed greetings to their friends who had blocked us from the other side of the alley. Barrett and Erick didn't seem to notice, as their eyes were drawn to the immediate threat of the approaching sea captain. Erick's gun was already in his hand; he was nervous, a criminal—probably a murderer—with nothing left to lose, much like Barrett. Both would fight, kill if necessary, to evade capture.

"Do ye mind if'n I have a taste o' the lad?"

I recoiled at the Captain's words. He'd seemed pleasant, if a little rough, last night. Teasing, but not lustful.

"Actually, I do," Barrett said firmly, "and you'd better not be coming any closer if you'd like to keep your head."

The Captain froze as I noticed Erick raising his gun over my shoulder at him. Barrett had his knife out, warning the drunk seaman away.

The Captain's hands came up placatingly. "Oh, there's nay need for any 'o that. But might it be that the boy wants a taste of something else? Before ye be on your way? What say you, boy?"

I looked at the Captain in horror. But then he... winked? I froze. Taking another quick glance, I picked out faces in the crowd of revelers now: Will, Sam, Gavin, Tom... Evander.

Ashton's men were here, and I realized suddenly these revelers weren't nearly as drunk as they had appeared. Their eyes bright and alert.

"Jus' step on over here and we be havin' us a good time." The Captain waved haphazardly. "And I be paying ye and ye master here... what say ye... a hundred pieces of gold?"

Oh, Gods, the Captain was trying to help me get away from Barrett. They all knew. They knew what was going on. And they had all come for me, together. A strange tingle of awe and gratitude tickled my spine.

I felt Barrett's hand flex on my arm, almost as if he were considering the offer—which was crazy. I knew he needed the coin and that much in gold was hard to pass up in his current state. I saw a couple heads jerk as if to tell me to 'come on', so I took advantage of Barrett's distraction.

I made two awkward, staggering steps, almost within the Captain's reach, before I was yanked backwards against a hard body. A steel arm clamped across my chest.

"He's a worthless whore. Why would you want to pay that much?" Barrett snapped, suspicion and derision in his tone. I sensed he was taking in the whole, now silent, crowd that had blocked our path. I knew when he realized it was an ambush because suddenly the knife blade was back at my throat, and his tone changed to one of haughty, arrogance.

"I think it's time you and your 'friends' moved on, don't you?" Barrett said. "And we'll just be on our own way."

He made an attempt to leave, Erick at his back, but the wall of revelers didn't move.

"Move! Or someone's going to lose their life over a scrawny, worthless whore!"

I closed my eyes, praying they moved. I didn't want anyone hurt over me. Closing my eyes, though, had been a bad idea. My head swam even more than it already was. I had to focus. Be strong. Be good.

"He's so much more than that. He's a brave young man." I heard the voice rise above the others, and my eyes were snapping open. Ash!

He was stepping from around the edge of the building, along with even more people: Tareth, some men in uniform, Mr. Hue, I didn't even know all of them.

Tears threatened to spill at the sight of him. He'd come for me! No one had ever come before. And now... all of these people were here... for me...

But then Barrett was pressing the blade against my jaw, forcing me to stretch my neck, the hood falling away from my head. And I heard Barrett issue his command in one word. "Erick."

"No!" I yelled, squirming weakly as Barrett's thug aimed his gun at the man I loved. A wave of dizziness swamped me at the abrupt movement, but I fought it, keeping my eyes on the man I loved.

In that instant time seemed to slow down as the crowd converged, creating a human shield in front of Ash, causing Erick to falter as he had no shot. Barrett growled in my ear as he shook with rage, the blade sliced a thin line along my neck, and I felt a thick sticky trickle down my throat. I hissed at the sharp bite of the blade, but held still, not wanting to make it worse. He wasn't cutting deep, just enough to provoke Ashton by spilling my blood.

"You're all wasting your energy on a pathetic nobody." Barrett sneered at the shocked, wide eyes of the small crowd, as well as the one narrowed in fury for what he'd just done.

"You're the one wasting your life, Barrett," Ash taunted, his eyes flaring in anger at the sight of blood dripping down my neck, but he kept his calm.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Erick search for the shot. My eyes darted around. Where the hell was Liam? He was supposed to be protecting Ash!

"Kye is so much more than you could ever think possible. A beautiful lover."

Then suddenly the crowd was shouting at Barrett as well. It took me a few moments to realize they were yelling about me.

"He's smart and brave!"

"A survivor!"

"A friend!"

"A listener!"

"Stubborn and feisty!"

"Loyal!"

"Strong and good!"

"The man who destroyed you," Ash added, drawing Barrett's rage back to him.

"An angel!" That last one had me looking for the speaker. Lord Rowland had been the only one to call me angel. He couldn't possibly be here.

My eyes flitted to the right at the far edge of the crowd, to a statue in the center of the street. I recognized Jacob, his hands cupped around his mouth as he yelled out my name—his voice getting lost in the rest of the calls and taunts from the crowd. Yet it was who I saw tucked in behind the statue, standing on its raised pedestal that caught my gaze—Liam.

Liam had called me angel. To get my attention. I squinted as saw him trying to say something. Jacob and Liam were both pointing down. Then I noticed Liam's rifle, the barrel resting in a crevice of the statue, aimed my way.

Oh-oh, hell... my eyes widened as I realized what Liam planned to do. Did he enjoy the idea of shooting a bullet past my head so much he had to do it again? Of course, I wasn't sure how I was going to 'get down' as Jacob and Liam seemed to be signaling with Barrett holding me like he was, and the knife pressed to my neck. If I dropped, the knife would likely stab through the thin skin of my neck.

My eyes flickered over to Ash, still staring down Erick's gun. Yet, if it took me slicing my throat open to get Liam to shoot Barrett, and hopefully Erick, to save Ash—well, then, there wasn't anything left to debate.

"Let him go, Barrett," the uniformed man next to Ash had been shouting.

"No! I let him go, I might as well be dead. No, my friend here and I will take the boy with us, to ensure you don't attempt anything stupid," Barrett yelled back. "Now get these men out of the way. If they don't move, I'll carve this knife into the boy's flesh until they do!"

I was only vaguely aware of the buzzing of voices around me—Barrett yelling, Ash arguing, Tareth begging, others shouting and taunting, waiting on edge for the end of the stand-off.

I took one last look at Ash, silently trying to convey everything I felt—just in case. I smiled, pouring every bit of love, hope, and thanks into it that I could, wishing I could raise my tied hands to wave too. 'I love you,' I mouthed.

Ash looked stricken for a moment, probably wondering why I would be telling him that, but he at least recovered enough to respond with his own 'I love you. Be strong.'

Gods I hoped I could be. I shifted my eyes back to Liam, letting him know I understood. It didn't matter what happened in the next few moments. Whatever it was, would be better than them letting Barrett drag me off.

I prepared to unlock my knees, to let gravity pull my whole weight straight down—and prayed that it would surprise Barrett enough before he could regain his hold. Falling wouldn't be a problem, as I was already having trouble even feeling my legs. The real issue was the knife tucked under my chin, which could stab up into the thin fleshy part of my jaw.

Liam's finger tightened on the trigger, his stillness was breathtaking.

"Aye you don' be wantin' to do that!"

Fuck the Captain was stepping forward again.

And then I felt it, the blade whipped out from under my chin to point and threaten the Captain. Damn, he'd just created the distraction I needed.

I went boneless. I sank in Barrett's hold—enough for him to let go in shock when my weight was too much for his one arm to restrain.

I heard, almost felt, Liam's gunshot fly past me as I flopped sideways, hitting something solid. Then a second shot was fired before a heavy weight crushed me. Chaos erupted into screaming and shouting and the scurrying of people.

"Kye!"

I couldn't breathe as the hefty bulk slammed me to the ground. Dragging in any air seemed near impossible, my brain already fatigued from the loss of blood on my forearm, I felt my focus faltering. The edges of my vision dimmed, even as I fought to pull in more air.

Then, blessedly, the mass was gone, shoved aside, and I sucked in a deep breath. I felt myself being rolled, my upper body cradled in strong arms.

"Oh, Gods, he's bleeding!"

"Where? How?"

The blur of voices was too loud. As much as I'd hoped, closing my eyes didn't lessen the cacophony of shouts around me.

"Get these damn ropes off his hands!"

"Hold 'im still! I've sen' someun' for the doc."

"Where's the wound? I can't find it!"

Hands were shoving at my shirt, probing at my belly, my ribs, my chest...

I felt the bindings on my wrists break, my arms falling limply as I couldn't bother to make them work. If I could just sleep for a few minutes...

"It's his arm. Fuck, it won't stop bleeding!"

"Damn, Barrett must have cut him before—"

"The pan..." I smiled to myself, remembering the shocked look on Barrett's face as the skillet had come flying at him. Yes, that was a dream I could fall asleep to...

"Kye! Kye! Open your eyes! Come on, look at me, amari."

I sighed at Ash's voice. He was close, so close. Funny how his voice sounded so... distraught. Didn't Liam manage to take down Barrett? Had Erick hurt someone? Oh, Gods, had he hurt Ash?

My eyes popped open. Wildly, I tried to focus, only to see a blur of chestnut hair and cinnamon eyes staring down at me. Then I saw the blood.

All over his white shirt.

No! No,no,no,no... oh, Gods no.

"Ash..." I croaked out, trying to get my arm to move, but it was restrained against his body. I felt tears leaking down my temples. I'd tried so hard to keep Barrett from hurting him, and I'd failed.

"Where the hell is the doctor?!" a voice—Liam's maybe—shouted.

Yes, the doctor, Ash needed a doctor.

"Ash..." I managed to fight off the call of sleep for another moment as I lifted my eyelids to search him out again.

"Shhh, stay still." His brows were furrowed, pain clearly evident on his face. I tried to lift my hand, but realized fingers were clenched around my forearm, holding it up against a hard surface. I frowned at the blood seeping through the fingers.

"Oh, Gods... sir, what--?" Tareth was kneeling next to me, his eyes darting up at Ash as well. What could Tareth see? Could he tell how badly Ash was hurt? Is that why he was looking at him with such fear in his eyes?

"Please, help him..." I whispered to Tareth, who didn't seem to hear me at all as he was shoved to the side.

"Let me see." A new voice. Beside me. I glanced at the man, but he wasn't Ash, so my eyes drifted back, blinking heavily at the strained face.

I felt my arm tugged, fingers probing.

"An artery has been hit. He's going to bleed out."

Arms tightened around me, and I heard a choked sob.

"Doc—"

Doc? This was the doctor? Oh, finally, I sighed inwardly. I rolled my head toward the stranger. "Help him."

The man frowned at me briefly before looking around him. "We need to get him to my house, cauterize the wound—"

Something tightened around my forearm just below the elbow, squeezing painfully, and drawing me from my blissful slide toward sleep. I cried out.

"What are you doing? You're hurting him!" Tareth was yelling.

"I'm tying off the blood flow," the doc grunted as he yanked tighter on whatever he'd wrapped around my arm. "It's going to hurt, yes, but hopefully, he won't lose much more blood. Now, get him to my office."

I felt my body jostled, which didn't make sense. The doctor was supposed to be helping Ash. I was curled against Ash's chest for a moment, as he struggled to stand.

"Aye, 'ere, let me. Ye are in nay condition to carry the youngun'." I was shifted again, held in unfamiliar arms.

"Thank you," Ash breathed.

I heard racing footsteps, many of them echoing around me. In the Captain's large arms, I felt air whisk by he carried me somewhere. I tried to protest, that he didn't need to carry me anywhere. I could probably walk... maybe... after I rested a little...

A door was thrown open ahead of our entrance, and I felt the Captain attempt to lay me carefully on a small bed. I sighed inwardly. It was much softer than whatever I was on before. Now, I could sleep... if my damn arm wasn't throbbing so badly with whatever had been tied around it.

I vaguely lifted my head and other hand, attempting to find the offending item and remove it.

"Don't touch it," Ash warned, he'd planted himself in a chair next to my head as soon as the captain had relinquished his hold. I frowned up at him. Why wasn't he lying down too?

Several people were crowding into the room: Tareth, Liam, the Captain... Evander, Gavin, Will, and others I couldn't pick out were hovering at the doorway. The doctor and an older woman, a nurse maybe, were scurrying around grabbing things.

"—Get the fire stoked, May. The wound needs to be cauterized. We'll need the alcohol as well, bandages, ointment..."

I could hear the words, but they weren't making a lot of sense to my fuzzy brain. Ash was clutching my good hand as he sat on the far side of me. He brushed the hair away from my forehead and leaned over to kiss me, a tender brush against my lips.

He looked up as the doctor handed him a small cup.

"See if you can get him to drink this," the man said. "It will help him deal with the pain."

Ash only nodded as he took the cup. He lifted my head, bringing the edge of the glass to my lips. "Drink, amari. It will help you sleep."

I wanted to tell him I didn't think I needed any help with that, but I was too tired to protest. I opened my mouth to accept the liquid. The moment the bitter fluid touched my tongue I wanted to spit it out, but Ash held me tight, forcing me to swallow.

I coughed as I choked a little on the horrible taste, a few drops slipping from the corner of my mouth.

"I'm sorry," Ash's voice sounded strangled, as a thumb wiped away the dribble and he dropped his forehead to mine, still holding the back of my neck. "I'm so, so sorry..."

Between the comfort of Ash's hand and the heat of the liquid spreading soothing warmth through my body, I felt floaty, my limbs melting into the bed under me.

"—if we don't stop... –going to bleed to death."

"–lost so much already..."

"—may already too late—"

"—do we need to amputate—"

"Oh, Gods, no!"

"—don't think it's necessary... have to watch for infection though—"

"—Gods, Kye... don't—"

As much as I tried to make sense of the words flowing around me, to pick out individual voices—Tareth, the doctor, Liam, Evander, the Captain's—I decided it wasn't worth the effort. The only important voice, the only important face, was right here next to me. I blinked heavily up at those shiny cinnamon eyes.

"I love you. Hold on for me, please," he whispered brokenly, and this close I could see tears in his eyes, streaks down his cheeks marking the path of many before.

"I... t-tired..." I murmured, my eyes drifting closed again.

"I know, but you need to be strong for me right now."

I tried to nod, but I'm not sure I managed much more than a shifting of my head on the pillow.

"Ready—"

"—need hands over here to hold him—"

"Liam, get his legs, Reth— no, Captain, get his shoulders. I've got his chest. Evander help the doc with—"

I felt heavy weights settle on me almost like a hefty comforter. Strangely, they made me feel secure, like when Ash sprawled over me when we were sleeping.

My sore arm was pulled out to the side, and hands tightened around it. I squirmed at the awkward feeling. A moment later a cold splash of liquid drenched my arm.

I screamed.

The sting of alcohol on my open wound searing my arm.

"Kye!" Tareth screamed in tandem with my own.

A choked sob echoed in my ear.

"Keep him back!" Liam yelled from nearby.

My eyes were wide as I struggled to free my arm. Gods! I had to stop the pain. I wanted to rip at my arm, to tear away the biting sting. Why were they torturing me? Why was Ash letting them?

"—hold him!"

"Now! Hand me the blade, now!"

I tried to twist free from the grasping hands. "No... please... stop..."

"Oh, Gods, Kye..." Ash breathed brokenly in my ear, his voice heavy with distress. "Please... just... hang on... it'll be over—"

Scorching pain flared. My breath was torn from me on a scream. My back arching, head flung back into the pillow, heart racing. The smell of burnt, sizzling flesh assailed me before the bitter agony swept over me completely.

Blessedly, my already exhausted brain, and body, shut down in the face of the overwhelming pain. Collapsing, in a heaving pant, I let darkness swamp me.