“Maxon, I’m here.”I keep moving, spotting a small patch of light up ahead. As I draw nearer, everything inside me freezes, the pain fading over my panic.
Maxon is kneeling on a stone floor, a pool of blood beneath him and his hands are hauled above his head, as he hangs there, limp.
“Maxon!” I breathe in horror, running forward.
Dropping to my knees, my soul shatters at the sight of his tortured body before me. My hands tremble as they cup his face, brushing strands of hair from his blood-streaked skin.
“A chroí. Please look at me,” the words leave my lips in a sob, my voice thick with desperation, but he doesn’t move.
My eyes sweep over him, taking in the blood. It's everywhere.
“What happened?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
His face twitches, and for a moment, hope flickers within me. His violet eyes flutter open, meeting mine, and I nearly break, a sob tearing from my throat as I press my forehead against his, the relief overwhelming.
“Everly?” His voice is weak, labored.
“Yes,” I breathe. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“You need to leave. It’s not safe,” he murmurs, his breath ragged and pained.
“I’m coming for you,” I tell him, the conviction in my voice stronger than the terror coursing through me.
“No, you mustn’t, she’ll stop at nothing to get you. She knows you're visiting me, it’ll be a trap.”
“Maxon, I’m coming for you. I’m not leaving you here.” His head lolls to the side against my hand tenderly cradling his cheek. “I’m not afraid to fight for you. I love you, not just with my heart, or my mind, but with my soul. We are fated mates, and I will always find you.”
His violet eyes lock onto mine, and in them, I see a flicker of that fierce fire I love. “You promise to fight?” His voice is a rasp, but the fire in his eyes strengthens.
“I promise.”
“Don’t you die on me, Stóirín,” he whispers, his words firm.
“Ditto,” I choke out, my voice thick with emotion, a strained laugh escaping despite the fear curling around me like a vice.
I reach to wrap my arms around him, but his body suddenly bows in pain, a ragged gasp tearing from his lips. My blood runs cold as I see the chains—bones—around his neck tighten, drawing more blood.
“What the . . . ” I stand, horror twisting inside me as I slowly walk around him. Bile rises in my throat, and my hand comes upto cover my mouth as my eyes trace over his back. Fury ignites in my chest. I push the sob down, gritting my teeth fiercely. His flesh is torn, flayed down to the bone, the brutality of it almost too much to bear. I sense it then, the hatred that begins to seep into my soul, fueling my rage.
I jolt up in bed with a gasp, the kind that rips through your chest when you’re desperate for air, as though you’ve been drowning and have finally breached the surface. My lungs burn, my body trembling as if I just fought my way out of some unseen force trying to drag me under.
I’m covered in a sheen of sweat, my clothes sticking to me uncomfortably. My heart is racing so fast I can barely think straight. Panic claws at me, making the room feel smaller, the shadows pressing in closer, suffocating. Without another thought, I throw off the covers, scrambling from the bed like it’s on fire.
My legs wobble as my feet hit the floor, the cold stone grounding me for a moment, but I’m still shaking, still horrified by what I just witnessed. It clings to me like my sweat-drenched clothes.
Mia and Scarlett are out of the bed in seconds, their movements quick, almost frantic.
"What happened?"
"What’s going on?" Scarlett’s words overlap with Mia’s as they both rush toward me, eyes wide with alarm.
I don’t answer right away, my hands already fumbling with the armoire door. I throw it open with more force than necessary,my fingers shaking as I sift through the clothes hanging there, searching for my fighting gear.
My mind races, panic pulsing in my veins, and I can feel their eyes on me, feel their worry thickening the air between us.
The soft hiss of a match being struck cuts through the silence, warm light flooding the room as one of them—Mia, maybe—lights a lantern. Scarlett steps closer, her bare feet silent on the stone floor as she reaches out, her hand hovering near my arm.
"You’re scaring me, E." Her voice is softer now, more vulnerable. "What’s going on?"
