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He hated me.

He wouldn’t come.

No one was coming.

And to even hint that someone was.

That this could all be over soon—

Fuck.

I couldn’t.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t stand.

Couldn’t exist.

Blackness swarmed me as another Master struck.

Pain crushed me.

I passed out.

* * * * *

“He’s damn well killing you.”

I groaned as consciousness slammed me awake.

For a single second, I had no memory, no discomfort.

But then…agony.

Everywhere.

My back, my thighs, my shoulders, my legs.

Fuck, make it stop!

I-I can’t do this anymore.

My groan turned to a tortured cry.

I tried to curl into a ball to hide, to die, only strong, no-nonsense hands kept me lying on my emaciated belly. “I’m not done tending to you.”

I cried out as something stinging splashed on the ribbons of my back.

Dr Belford cursed under her breath, her hands shaking as she nursed me back to life.

“Ily…” I gasped around the excruciating throb. “Is she…they didn’t…please tell me—”

“She’s fine. You passed out, and Victor let the Masters, who hadn’t had a turn, finish before everyone retired for the night.”

“Can…can you help me see her?”

“And get all of us killed?” She scoffed. “No.”