Without looking away, his arm jerked. The knife whipped through the air and buried in my attacker’s upper thigh.
I cringed as the man screamed. While he wrenched Lucas’s knife from his flesh, Lucas spun me behind him, raising another blade.
How many did he have?
“You can walk away with a flesh wound,” Lucas said, “or you can join your friend. Your choice.”
The soldier took in his fallen comrade, then the man restraining Salinas, still held off by Adam. “You’ll die before this is all over, fucker,” he spat at Lucas.
“I know,” Lucas said evenly. “I forfeited my soul to the pits of hell, and I’m watching it burn.” A few predatory steps had the man backing away. “I have no morals left, so if you come at her again, I will bleed you dry and enjoy every second. Do you understand?”
The man’s wrath remained caged behind a hateful expression, but he nodded.
“You’re alive right now by her grace,” Lucas said. “You have ten seconds before I change my mind.” He stayed motionless as both soldiers retreated, their watchful gazes on Lucas until they were far enough to run.
I tried to draw in air through an iron band wrapped around my chest. Fine tremors wracked my body, and a rapid pulse throbbed in my back.
I stumbled backward, hand to my chest, tears breaking through. Lucas appeared before me, face swimming through darkness. He was talking, but the words didn’t make sense, echoing to me like he screamed them underwater.
“They attacked me,” I whispered. “M-my own p-people.”
“Breathe, Sophia,” he said.
Trees.
My knees turned to jelly. He caught my weight.
Rain.
We sank to the ground.
Cypress.
“Take her,” said a voice outside my bubble. “I’ll deal with this.”
Suddenly, I was weightless, my body swaying with Lucas’s quiet steps as he carried me through the forest. I fisted his shirt and closed my eyes. “Stay with me.”
“You know I will. Until I die.”
When he set me down atop something soft, my body felt as if I’d run a marathon. I blinked around, recognizing our bed, the A-frame of the ceiling, the book he’d left on his pillow.
Sitting beside me, he brushed his hand across my cheek, fingers drifting down my throat. We remained that way for a long time, my heart rate slowing with each letter he drew on my pulse.
“He said he wanted to put me out of my misery,” I whispered after minutes of silence.
“You don’t have to worry about him, okay?” A seriousness crept into his eyes, bled into his expression. “You deserve so much better than this.”
“You saved my life again.”
“You save mine every day.”
I slipped my hands up his chest, clenching slowly on his shirt. In an unhurried, even pull, I dragged him closer, and then my lips were against his.
The kiss was halting at first, careful, like neither of us was sure this was the right move. When he pulled back a touch, I cupped his face in my hands. “How did you know I was in trouble?”
His brows drew together. “You screamed my name.”
“I—I did?” I remembered screaming, but not his name.
