My gaze locked on that strange metallic circle looking so odd against his skin. Further away, it’d looked like a large pendant with no chain, but up close, it was embedded into his flesh.Inserted like some morbid jewellery, his skin raw around the edges. Angry red veins crawled from it, spiderwebbing outward.
What on earth—?
The lamps made his collarbones sharp as daggers; his skin glistened with sweat as he panted. His blue-black hair dangled over his cheeks and his eyes squeezed tight. Breathing hard, he trembled and quaked, agony bleeding out of him with every tremor.
The silver cuffs I’d glimpsed a few times shackled his wrists as terrible as handcuffs. They bit into him, tight and cruel, matching the awful mess of that silver plate inserted directly above his heart.
Whisper whined as I came to a stop beside Lucien’s bed, his tail flicking with worry.
What was happening? What did this mean?
What’s wrong with him?
“Are you...alright?” The words came out ridiculously quiet against his savage groan of despair. He didn’t seem conscious. Didn’t look up or open his eyes.
“What’s wrong with him?” I glanced at the panther, wishing he spoke English. “What do you expect me to do?”
Whisper cocked his head, his ears flattening. He showed a hint of fang as if adopting his master’s way of making me do things.
Stroking his scruff, I locked down my nervous system as it tried to give me a migraine. I wasn’t equipped for this. I wouldneverhave the constitution necessary to be a doctor or nurse and counted myself lucky I wasn’t passed out on the floor, but...the way Whisper watched his suffering master broke my heart.
How long had they lived together?
How had a panther ended up here, in this place, with him?
Gritting my teeth against the rush of nausea, I backed up. “I’ll, eh, I’ll go and get him a glass of water, okay?”
Whisper grunted warningly as I tried to leave.
“I’ll be right back, I promise. I-I’ll get him something to drink and—”
Lucien cried out, buckling over his knees and digging his fingernails into his black loose trousers. Every muscle in his stomach and arms bunched and shook with pain. Another groan followed by a guttural gasp.
My headache exploded. My vision went grey.
I staggered backward as the room spun.
Too much stress. Too much confusion.
Why was he hurting so much? What could help him? Why was no one here to tend to him—
Lucien’s head suddenly tipped back as the strange silver disc over his heart flashed with a green light then a red.
Heroared.
Tears stung my eyes. My knees went to give out.
Whisper shot behind me, pressed his giant head against the small of my back, and shoved me forward.
I went flying.
Onto the bed, onto Lucien.
Our bodies collided and my weight sent him sprawling backward. His eyes snapped open as my wet shirt plastered against his blazing bare chest.
The world contracted to his heat burning into me and the frantic thud of his heart, trapped beneath that silver circle.
Comprehension flooded him that he was no longer suffering alone as our eyes locked. His pupils were too wide, the whites tainted with red.
