A ghoulish wail sounds, way too close for comfort.Have I fucking died?It hurts to think, much less move.
A ragged, deep inhale brings something dry and gritty into my mouth, and I cough reflexively as it hits the back of my throat. Gagging, I sputter, then moanas I attempt to shift my head. It’s as if some sick fuck is repeatedly taking a sledgehammer to the base of my skull every time I change positions.Dirt.My brow furrows. I have fucking dirt in my goddamn mouth. As I open my eyes, my mind scrambles. More coughs rack my chest.What in the fuck? Where am I?At my side, something hits the ground with a thud, and another cry rips through the air.
I roll over to my side, blinking to focus in the inky blackness. “Arrow?” My vision is blurry, but I can tell his lips are drawn, and he seems to stare at me, but his eyes are blank behind his leopard mask. He’s fucking shaking. The tremors crashing through his body are significant enough that they’re visible even though I can hardly see a few feet in front of me.
A ragged exhale jerks from me. “What happened?” Every word I manage to croak out results in a jabbing sensation like a knife to my head, but that doesn’t stop me. “What in the fuck is wrong with you?” I gasp out. Sitting up, I watch the way his breath exits all strangled and choppy and how he’s clutching at his thighs with both hands. He looks on the verge of a meltdown if he isn’t already there.
Been there. Felt that. And though I usually don’t get Arrow and his ways at all, in this moment, I understand. And even though I am positive his pain isn’t physical, it’s safer for me to focus on that rather than let on we have anything in common. “Is it your back?” I question, watching him carefully for more clues.
The wounds caused by the heinous beating he’dreceived from Hayze at the command of the Collective have only begun to heal. I was actually surprised when he made the decision tonight to participate, but he refused to stay back at the compound, wouldn’t even hear of it.
Either his father had a similar conversation with him that mine had with me, or—more likely—there’s no way he wouldn’t want to be involved with the object of his obsession out here in the woods.
A few seconds later, Arrow seems to have calmed, if only the slightest bit, and gives himself a visible shake before reaching up with a trembling hand to remove his mask. Wetting his lips, he claws his fingers through his short hair. “I— I thought—” His eyes crash shut, and he takes one deep breath, then another. “Never mind.”
“Dude. You’re so fuckin’ weird sometimes.” I look around, listening. A trickle of something wet slides down my neck, and frowning, I look upward for the source. Is it raining? No.
“Did you”—Arrow pauses as his breath hitches—“pass out?”
“What? No.” But suddenly, that’s thrown into question because I have no memory of how I came to be on the forest floor, face down in the dirt. The moisture slides down my back now, mixing with the sweat coating my skin, and I lift a hand, swiping a couple fingers over my nape, then bring them up to my face for a better look. In the dark, I squint and rub whatever it is between my fingers and thumb. It’s… sticky. Bringing it to my nose, I inhale, and the metallic scent has me staggering in disbelief. As a shudder runs down my spine, I scowl hard, comprehension dawning. “I think someone knocked me out.” Arrow stares woodenly at me before rubbing his hands over his face. He’s acting so so fucking weird, not completely abnormal for him, but still…
Out of nowhere, a possible explanation edges to the forefront of my mind. “Arrow,” I murmur, “did you fuckingbashme over the head?”
“What? No.” He presses a few fingers to his temple as if it will help him think. Hesitating, he finally opens his mouth, panicked words tripping from his lips on their way out. “When I got here, I thought you were fuckingdead.” His mouth snaps shut, and he jerks his gaze from mine, staring off into the distance.
I study him, and the way he won’t look me in the eye gives me no confidence. A creeping, clawing sensation twists inside my gut. I’ll be watching him. Frustrated by his silence, I shrug, muttering, “I don’t care what you do… I need to get back to the compound.” Gritting my teeth as I fight back wave after wave of nausea, I climb to my feet. Much to my dismay, I sway, unsteadily.
“Fuck.” He grips my shoulder as he comes in close, inspecting the back of my head as more of that sticky slickness slides down my back. “You weren’t kidding. You’re hurt,” he rumbles. “You can lean on me if you need to.”
Cocking a brow at him, I huff outan agitated breath. “I’m good.” Maybe I’m not, but I’d sooner be dead than admit to feeling about as un-fucking-steady as I’ve ever been in my entire life. It’s even worse than the time my father backhanded me for not kneeling before him. I hadn’t been here long, but to this day, I recall the way it felt like my fucking bell had been rung, vision blurring until I ended up on the ground at his feet, right where he’d wanted me. I growl internally at being reminded of a time when I’d been at my lowest. My mother hadn’t wanted me around… and then?—
I wrench myself from those thoughts, unwilling to slide down that slippery slope of self-loathing and all the questions in my head that remain unanswered. Pain has my temper flaring. “Where the fuck is everyone?”
“Don’t know,” Arrow grumbles, running a hand along his jaw. “Everything about tonight has feltoff. Unusual.”
He’s right. Whether we were preoccupied with other shit or what, I couldn’t say; but tonight hasn’t gone as it should have. Things took a sharp turn at the feast with it becoming obvious that Hayze has some crazy shit circling around in his head, especially where Twenty-Three is concerned.
I exhale sharply, glancing at Arrow. That girl is affecting every single one of us. Pressing my lips together, I take a second to wonder whether Hayze or Cross found her since we got separated so fucking fast. I don’t have any fucking clue what anyone else had planned to do if they were the one to find her.To be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. But I know what my father wanted, and I’d be a fucking fool if I thought the Collective hadn’t given the same instructions to every one of their sons. They wanted Twenty-Three impregnated, and fast.
“The wind is picking up.” Arrow gestures to my horned deer mask that dangles from my fingers. “You putting that back on before we get to the compound?”
He’s still waiting for my answer when the skies open and rain dumps on us from the heavens. Gritting my teeth, I glance upward, cursing. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Arrow! Mal!” The muffled shout from behind stops us in our tracks, and we both turn.
My brows knit together, and my lips part as Cross appears, stepping into view from behind a tree. In his arms, he carries Twenty-Three.What in the—?One ragged exhalation after another leaves his lips as he hurries toward us.
Wicked flames of jealousy flicker to life in my chest. The idea that he caught her is playing with my head, twisting me up good. But it’s not simply that he managed to achieve what I’d wanted to and couldn’t. It’s way more complex than that, and my emotions set to swinging wildly. The other half of what I’ve got going on is that somewhere in my fucked-up head, I’m irritated that Cross has his hands on her. And he doesn’t have them onme.Out of nowhere, I’m hit with the memory of our shared grunts and moans, making my face heat.
I exhale hard, slowly letting my gaze scan over thepair as they approach.What’s with the odd expression on his face? I can’t figure him out on a good day, so this isn’t really much of a surprise.One question after another cascades through my mind. Finally, I manage to grunt out, “Where’d you come from? Hayze isn’t with you?”
“No—” Cross stops without elaborating, shaking his head, an odd light in his eyes. “You’re not gonna fuckin’ believe who we found,” he mutters as he makes like he’s going to pass us without stopping to explain his comment. “I have to get her back to the compound.”
“Wait.” Arrow’s arm darts out, hooking Cross’s elbow. “Is she okay?” He may be speaking to our friend, but his attention is on Twenty-Three, eyes glued to her like the devoted little puppy he is.
At the sound of his voice, her head lifts, and she peers at Arrow, then me, in turn, then gives a derisive chuckle. “No, I’m not okay. You don’t even know half of it. It’s only going to get worse from here with—” Her mouth snaps shut.
Cross’s jaw twitches, and I follow the way his chest moves on a deep inhale as he looks down at her. “I’d need to look her over before I can say if she’s physically fine or not. She’s weak. Almost passed out when we started to head back.”
