“You haven’t seen her?” Alex asks, eyes frantic as he looks around the battlefield.
“No, I was busy dealing with Mark.” Although I’m regretting spending so much time with the bastard while Ollie has been missing. “Have either of you?”
Theyshake their heads.
Fuck.
“Fan out and check everybody,” I order, raising my voice so everyone hears before marching off to do just that.
I barely acknowledge the thick stench of rot, blood and death or the cold, dead eyes of the bodies as I flip every one I come across. Most are Scourge or Lodge guys who forced their way into the fight after it’d started, but there are more than a few dead infected amongst the corpses. Each body I inspect and don’t recognise has my stomach knotting tighter and tighter with dread.
What if someone took her during the fight? Or she turned and wandered off into Haven?
The mere thought of that makes me sick.
I swallow back bile and force my attention back to searching the bodies. There’s no point worrying about those kinds of things until we’ve searched the battlefield and still haven’t found her. Until then, I’ll keep looking and hoping to find her alive.
But with each new corpse that hope is dwindling.
“Over here!” Anthony shouts from the outskirts of the battle.
I snap around so fast, it leaves me dizzy for a moment, and race over to where Anthony is kneeling. He’s pulling a brutalised corpse upwards with a grimace, blood and guts spilling from the body. For one heart-stopping moment, I think the corpse is Ollie. Until I see the face.
Luke.
My breath whooshes out of me at the sight, and I turn my attention to the person lying beneath the corpse. Relief crashes into me at seeing Ollie’s chestnut hair, tangled and splayed out around her like a halo, and I drop to my knees. Her chest moves, meaning she’s alive, but it’s hard to see if she’s injured beneath the blood and gore coating her body.
“Ollie? Princess?” I crawl closer to her as Anthony moves away.
Those emerald eyes blink open, hazy with pain and terror, but she’salive. “Rhys?” she croaks, her voice sounding like she gargled rocks.
My gaze flicks to her neck and to the heavy bruising encircling her throat. Rage bubbles up in my chest, and I swallow a growl at the sight. If Luke wasn’t dead, I’d make the bastard suffer for what he did to her. But now isn’t the time to think about that. Ollie needs care and softness, not my cold, hard rage.
I shuffle closer and smooth the hair from her face. “Yeah, princess, it’s me. Are you hurting anywhere?”
“My neck.” She reaches up with a trembling, blood-covered hand to encircle her throat. “He… he choked me.”
My jaw clenches at her admission, but I keep my touch light against her face and hair. “Alright, princess. We’ll have the doc look at you soon and give you the good meds.”
“Luke… is he…?” She tapers off, her eyes haunted.
“He’s dead. You got him,” I tell her. “He’ll never hurt anyone else again.”
Her eyes close, although I’m not sure if it’s from guilt, pain or relief.
“Ollie!” Theo shouts as he throws himself down onto the ground beside us.
Alex is right behind him. “Sweetheart,” he chokes in a thick voice.
I move away, giving them the chance to move closer. Theo cups the side of her face while Alex takes her bloodied hand into his and cradles it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Ollie’s eyes flutter open, her gaze swirling with so many emotions it’s hard to pick them out.
“Theo, Alex,” she croaks as a tear runs down her cheek. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, baby, we’re fine,” Theo says as he strokes her cheek.
“And everyone else?”
“Everybody is fine, sweetheart,” Alex says. “You’re the one who looks to be in the worst condition.”
