Vibrating against the torture tripping through me, I dipped a hand between my thighs. It came away wet. I squinted. Crimson stickiness webbed my fingers, and I blinked to clear my hazy vision.
Blood.
“No!” I squealed.
Reality blinded me.
“No!” I shook my head violently, vomit pumping into my throat.
He didn’t. No! Not again. My thoughts turned jerky, incoherent in my buzzing head.
I bit down on my tongue, shoving my legs off the side of the bed. Unstable, I toppled over, my back hitting the carpet, wrenching a wail from my throat. I tried to call out, pain clamped my teeth on my tongue.
Rolling onto my hands and knees, I crawled toward the door. Wetness poured down my thighs, soaking my feet sliding in its wake. My insides twisted and turned, erupting in a ball of fire. Again, I tried to scream, but nausea threatened to spill, compelling me to lock my jaw. I pressed my body to the floor, gasping for air. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t cry out. The pain was sharp, piercing. A million knives ripping through me. Each split exploded with heat worse than the last one. Burn after burn scorched my insides. My back, my head, my stomach, my limbs. It all blazed. Another scream choked in my throat as one excruciating wrench forced my legs apart, my nails digging into the carpet, my body bowing off the floor.
I was no longer in agony. I was in hell.
Then I heard him.
“I got you, love.” Gentle hands wrapped me against firm muscles, giving me support, promising warmth. “Breathe, baby.”
I tried. I couldn’t. I gritted my teeth instead, pushing against his hold to get free. He wouldn’t let me.
“No, love,” he soothed. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispered over and over. “Breathe for me, baby.”
This time I did. Harsh raspy breaths blew through flared nostrils, my entire body wept with a mixture of blood, pee, and sweat, but my eyes remained dry. I jerked and squirmed, my body possessed by an agony I couldn’t understand.
Still, those arms held me close, held me tight, gave me support, yet his tortured voice expressed his sorrow. “What the fuck is happening to her?” I felt it vibrate down his chest into my soul.
He was hurting. For me.
“X...” I tried to call his name. Pain yanked the words from my mouth and roared out in a scream instead. “Stop!”
And it did.
One last bone-crunching snap before pressure descended someplace inside me, pushing down, yanking at the nerves that pieced my body together, tearing, shredding. My eyes slammed shut, and I succumbed my body to hell, squeezing everywhere I could.
Then I felt it.
A slow release. A ball of heat. Another life. Slipping out of me. It wouldn’t make it. I could feel it. It’s tiny, tiny body touching my thighs.
“Cut it,” someone said.
“No,” I moaned.
“Shh, it’s okay, love. I got you.”
“It’s gone,” I whispered.
“I’m so sorry, love,” Xavier soothed. “I’m so fucking sorry,” his hoarse voice surrounded me, filled with anguish.
“It’s gone,” I repeated.
“Please, love, let it out,” I felt his hand brush my brow. “Cry,” he begged. “Just let it out.”
“No!” I screamed, my whole body shaking, bending and squirming. “I won’t give him my tears,” I panted. “Never!” I howled and writhed.
“Shh.” Still, he held on, not letting me give into the death I craved. “I got you. You’re safe. Breathe,” his gentle voice calmed me.
