"Who are you and why—“
Whatever she said, Dorian didn't hear. His ears began to ring, his vision clouding. He coughed hard, and if it hadn't been for the two on either side of him, he would have fallen to his knees. His legs gave way beneath him, and his toes dragged the rest of the way to the shelter.
They laid him on the table. He'd never felt such agony in his bones before, not after using his form. His form usually protected him from pain like this. He rolled over to his side as the blood began to pool again at the back of his throat, and he couldn't help it as it evacuated on Reverie's shoes.
"Prop him up," the stranger instructed her.
Through his haze, Dorian saw the widened fear in her eyes, but she nodded and moved behind him. She pushed herself onto the table and sat his back against her when he faltered, her hand moving his hair off his face. Every muscle in his body spasmed, and it was then he saw how bad the cut was on his side.
Four slashes stretched from the bottom of his left ribs over his strong abs to his hip. One was much deeper than the others, and Dorian swore he saw his insides. Deep scarlet blood oozed out, and Dorian closed his eyes.
Sweat was already on his forehead. Chills ran down his spine.
"Corbin—“ he forced out, a fear stretching in him that this was it.
This wasn't like the last time.
The last time, he had come out with bruising and scrapes. The last time, he could breathe and wasn't losing blood. The last time, he had nearly lost his head, but the fact remained, he hadn't.
This was how he would die.
In a fucking Blackhand trial surrounded by people who told him this was now purely for their entertainment.
"Don't start," Corbin said on the other side of him.
Dorian realized where his Second was, and he clasped his forearm as hard as he could. "You have to go to the Forest—“
"No," Corbin argued.
"Tell Bala—“ but he could hardly speak over the sap of blood “—Follow her. Tell my sister—“ another cough caught in his throat, and Reverie’s arms tightened around him.
"Can't you do something?!" Reverie pleaded to the stranger, her voice breaking.
"Tell my sister I love her—“
"You can tell her yourself," Corbin said as he gripped Dorian's forearm back, and Dorian swore he saw a tear on his cheek. Corbin looked to the stranger on the other side of Dorian. "Help him!" he almost yelled. "Aren't you a Lesser One?"
A hand pressed to Dorian's side, and he squirmed beneath the touch. "Stop moving, kid," the stranger told him.
But Dorian couldn't help himself. He could feel his form fighting with the loss of blood, threatening to surface in an attempt to try to save him. His body shuddered with a scream as he squashed the ash, hands tightening around both Corbin and Reverie's to the point he thought he might break their fingers.
"Stop moving," the stranger repeated.
"Fuck off," was all Dorian could scramble.
More shadows appeared around them.
"Do something," he heard Hagen shout. "Stop fucking around anddo something."
His tone was dark, almost as a warning. Dorian should have been listening, but a tear had dropped from Reverie's cheek onto his. The chill spread, his hands sweating. Pain rippled through his chest, and he jerked upwards.
"You think he's suffered enough?" the stranger asked.
"Are you fucking—Heal him!" Hagen shouted.
"Please," Reverie pleaded again, her hands continuing to wipe Dorian's now sopping hair off his forehead.
It was all Dorian could do to keep his eyes open. The streaks of his form pulsed over him again and yanked his chest high. A sharp gasp took his breath.
