She collapsed, her cheek pressed against the cold tile floor.Darkness pressed in, but she clawed at it.She couldn’t let him win.Not again.Not again.
“Stay down,” Caleb ordered.He crouched low, his hand glowing with cruel promise.“Or I’ll make sure you never get up.”
Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed.Someone must have called this in.His curse broke off, his gaze flicking to the door.He hissed in frustration, delivering one last kick before vanishing into the panicked crowd.
Brielle tried to sit up, but her body betrayed her.Blood streaked her lips, her chest screaming with each shallow breath.The shop assistant was suddenly at her side, crouching low, her voice high with nerves.“I’ve called the cops, and the paramedics.Help’s coming.Just hang on, okay?”Brielle blinked, slipping in and out, the words warping through the haze of pain.She heard the woman’s voice again, trembling as she explained to someone nearby, “He just ...he beat the hell out of her.I’ve never seen anything like it.”
No mention of magic, just fists and violence.
“Okay, I will need a statement from you, and if you have any store security cameras I will need access to those as well.”The voice came closer.
Brielle blinked her one good eye, vision swimming.A tall cop stood above her—broad-shouldered, blond, built like he belonged on a SWAT poster.His badge glinted under the boutique’s broken lights.He crouched low for a second, his blue eyes assessing her injuries without flinching.“You’re safe now, ma’am.We’ve got you, you’re safe, and we’ll get him.Just focus on breathing.I’m officer Landon Walker.The paramedics are almost here.”
He stepped back as two men moved in to take his place, they spoke quietly together for a moment, too far away for her to know what was being said.She closed her eyes trying to keep from vomiting all over the floor.
Two sets of hands touched her at once and Brielle panicked.Her terror spiked and she thrashed weakly, a ragged cough tearing through her chest.Blood bubbled at her lips and blurred her vision.One of the men swore under his breath, voice rough with alarm.“Jesus ...he beat the hell out of her.”The other voice followed quickly, steadier but urgent.“Easy, we’re paramedics!Don’t fight us, sweetheart.We’ve got you, we won’t hurt you.Just let us work.”
Her instinct screamed to run, but she couldn’t.She forced one swollen eye open—the left, since her right had swollen shut—and locked onto warm brown eyes that seemed impossibly steady framed by short-cropped blond hair.
“My name is Hunter Garrison,” he introduced quickly, though she barely registered it.“My brother Lennox is right here—we’ll take care of you.”
Another man leaned over, darker hair, same striking jawline, same eyes filled with alarm.“Just breathe for us, sweetheart.Don’t fight it.We’ve got you.”
Cool alcohol swabbed her arm, then the sting of an IV sliding into place.Relief followed moments later as morphine spread, the edge of agony blunting.Their voices anchored her, speaking in a rhythm meant to keep her tethered.
The connection jolted through her, confusing and sharp.She let out a shuddering breath and stopped fighting, allowing them to lower her gently back down.
“What’s your name?”Harrison asked as he shone a light in her eyes.
“Brielle Johnson.”Her voice slurred.
“Do you know where you are?”Lennox asked this time.
“New York.”Or Hell.Hell hurt more than New York, so she wasn’t sure she got that one right.
“Can you tell us what hurts most?”Lennox again.
“Every fucking thing,” she groaned, and both men huffed a slight laugh.
She answered through gritted teeth, every word a battle, but their voices kept her conscious.Strange comfort threaded through the fear.
Darkness was beginning to swim around the edges of her vision, that, if she were to be honest, was not as clear as it should be.
“Stay with us, Brielle.Please.”
Her consciousness wavered, but snatches of sound reached her—the bustle of more police arriving, the shop assistant answering questions in a shaky voice, the crackle of radios.The words blurred, but she caught, “He beat her ...never seen anything like it...”before it all smeared into noise.She floated, suspended between pain and morphine, the weight of strong hands keeping her tethered.
Hunter’s voice cut through again, firm but oddly gentle.“Eyes on me, Brielle.Don’t drift too far.”Lennox echoed him, coaxing her back.“That’s it, sweetheart.Just listen to us.We’ve got you.”
Her left eye flickered open once more, vision smeared with tears.She focused on them—the strangers whose touch steadied her, whose presence inexplicably felt like more than chance.Their voices pulled her closer than the morphine could, grounding her in the wreckage of her body.
For the first time since Caleb had appeared, she didn’t feel entirely alone.She had no idea why these two mattered, or why her battered heart responded to them as though it already knew them.But she clung to that fragile thread, letting it keep her from slipping into darkness altogether.
