“I’mfine,” I croak, trying not to sound like I’m dying in Knox’s arms, even though that might be exactly what’s happening.
I’m feeling lightheaded, black splotches growing in the corner of my eyes.
Viper and Shade close in around us like soldiers protecting an asset, or… or maybe like a Pack defending its Omega.
They move like a single organism. They’re tight, lethal, and utterly relentless.
My breath stutters. I’m wrapped in arms I’ve dreamed about for months, flanked by men who once made me feel like I mattered. And even though they’re bleeding and battered, they’re here, fighting forme.
I suck in a breath, but it gets caught halfway.
It’s too much.
The pain. The shock. The blood loss. The scent of them. The way Knox is carrying me like I’m somethingpreciousinstead of a half-shattered girl who left him and his brothers on the side of a road like trash.
Something inside me buckles.
A strangled noise claws up my throat. A sob, maybe. Or a laugh. I don’t know anymore.
Then I whisper the burning question.
“Why? After what I did…”
Knox’s jaw flexes, and his hold tightens, but he doesn’t answer. Although,somethingflickers across his face, as if he’s hiding a hurt bullets didn’t cause.
Shade’s expression twists. His voice is rough when he says, “Because you’re still ours and Scorch Squad looks out for its own.”
I can’t hold it together anymore.
The tears come hot and fast, slicing down my cheeks. My whole body shakes as the grief and guilt and longing pour out of me in waves that won’t stop.
I hide my face against Knox’s throat and sob into the crook of his neck.
I don’t know what that means. Do they forgive me? Are they just saving me out of duty?
It’s too much to deal with right now.
We keep moving through the dilapidated streets of Rheamont, hounded by the Humans following our trail like bloodhounds.
Knox still doesn’t falter. He just moves, one dragging step after another, with me in his arms.
His breath is a rasp. His body is shaking. And I feel every drop of blood soaking through his clothes onto mine.
He’s healing alarmingly quick. I’ve watched the hole in his shoulder stitch itself back together faster than Viper can emptyhis rifle’s magazine. He might not be at risk of bleeding to death anymore, but the effort to heal is taking a heavy toll on his body.
“Knox—”
“Don’t,” he cuts in. Not mean. Just final.
Shade leads the retreat, reading a map on his tablet and checking the camera of the drone still hovering above with quick flicks of his eyes between covering fire. Every motion is clinical as he guides our path forward.
“Movement on the west flank,” he snaps. “They’re repositioning. Go.”
Blaze dashes off into a side street. There is a burst of gunfire, followed by screams, then… silence.
Viper appears beside us, emerging from the smoke like the grim reaper’s less sociable brother.
“You’re fading,” he says to Knox, glancing at the blood pouring from his ribs. “You’ll drop her.”
