“Warrior” - Beth Crowley - Nightcore
“Undo My Sad” - Sanna Nielsen
“Better Than I Used to Be” - Citizen Soldier
It’s no different than any other kiss. No different Rory.
But maybe…pieces of him.
Oh, god! My back aches with bruises, and my leg is still burning where the arrow is still lodged. A chronic throbbing, stabbing pain. Every time my vision blackens at the edges, they touch me or strike me in some way that keeps me in the moment, spiking my adrenaline.
Rory’s mouth is so hot on mine, his beard chafing my skin as he drags the flat of his tongue against mine, then circles it all over the inner walls. He tastes like rain and whiskey. I cling to the scent because I know they’ll punish me more if I pass out.
The words he said—they’re still there, sharp and glinting, like slivers of glass catching in my chest, lodging between the soft places I’ve tried to keep safe. Tiny, glittering truths cutting through my armor and the old scars.
Each one slices something open, carving through the lies I used to tell myself. Rewriting them. Not erasing—no, the past stays, but it shifts.
His words write a new pain over the old. It hurts. It heals. It terrifies me..
God, my skin burns and aches from all the switches. And the thick ropes strain my tired muscles. I’m exhausted. The rain chills me to the bone. But I know they’re far from done. Parts of me don’t want this, are terrified of this. But for once, the fear isn’t mine to carry alone. The sting, the burn, the pain help mefeel. Just like Raphael said.
But for fuck’s sake! How much do I need to feel before they take the goddamn arrow out of me?!
“Don’t go soft on me now, Firecracker,” Rory says against my swollen lips before giving me that wicked wink.
I playfully snap my teeth, taking power when he flinches. But I flash him a teasing glance.
“You want to bite, Lass?” He chuckles darkly, daring to rub his thumb along my lower lip. “Ye will feelallof our teeth tonight.”
He snaps his head to Raphael, who nods, granting his permission.
Seth’s hands are what I feel next, coiling my hair into a knot on the top of my head, holding it in place with a thick ponytail.
Jude takes his place before me. Taller than Rory, he towers over me, his shadow promising all manner of punishment.
And then…they begin.
“Ahhh!” I cry out from Rory’s teeth sinking into my collarbone, sharp and unyielding—just enough to leave the ghost of a mark, like an oath. Jude mirrors him on the other side, his bite slower, his teeth sending a shudder rippling down my spine.
My body is shaking, and I bob a little in the suspension.
I suck in a ragged inhale, the chilled rain fighting with the fire they keep stoking. And the fire in my calf. The wound on my arm feels like a thin shred of flame.
Behind me, Vincent’s hands are colder, steady as stone as he presses his mouth against the back of my shoulder, his bite a clean, precise thing—like a blade sinking. Seth’s rougher teeth scrape over the back of my ribs, catching where my breath snags and sharpens.
Random, scattered flashes of pain until they overlap, bleeding into something I can’t outrun.
It hurts.
It grounds me.
It makes me real.
I don’t know whose teeth are where anymore. I just feel every claim written in shallow crescent marks and aching pressure.
I am made of this. I am undone by this.
I’m unraveling. Shattering. But I’m inside their chains. I’m a part of them.
