Page 20 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

Cold seeps up from the ground and through my clothes. It should be miserable, but the sensation steadies me. Cold means I still have skin, and having skin means still having a body. A body means that somehow, against the natural order of things, I'm alive.

My heart beats in my chest.

Thump-thump.

I inhale, breathing in the scent of damp earth, pine, and woodsmoke.

I rub my thumb against my forefinger, letting the tactile sensation anchor me. The tingling in my extremities lessens, and more of the world floods back in.

I huff in disbelief.

I'm mother-fracking alive.

I wait for the panic to swallow me whole.

It should, because I died.

I remember dying.

The pain. The blood. The awful snap of our bonds breaking apart in my chest.

Fear moves through me, but it doesn’t own me the way it used to. Beneath the confusion and the weakness in my limbs, there is a strange steadiness I don’t recognize.

The world already did its worst.

I came back anyway.

I look to my side and jolt.

A large black shadow is hovering beside me.

Oh frack, it’s death.

He’s pissed I escaped, and he's come to drag me back.

Alarm punches through me, but it doesn’t hollow me out. I curl my stiff fingers into the dirt, weak as I am, and prepare to fight him anyway.

My breath comes fast, and it makes my lungs burn as they stretch from stillness.

The shadow shifts.

A rough, animal sound slips from my throat.

My mouth is bone dry, and swallowing hurts. I lick my lips, but my tongue is like sandpaper. Each inhale and exhale creates a harsh, rasping sound that rattles from my throat.

"Drink, baby girl," a familiar voice orders gently.

Water drizzles over my lips, and my tongue laps at it before I can think. The first swallow hurts, but the next one burns less. I try to sit up, chasing the canteen, but my body refuses to cooperate.

Strong hands catch me and ease me against a warm, firm chest.

"I’ve got you, Sparkles," another voice murmurs near my ear.

I sag into him.

The canteen touches my mouth again, and I drink greedily, sighing as the cool water soothes the raw ache in my throat. The wheezing rattle eases, and the world settles into focus.

I'm lying in a pool of blood, on the forest floor, in a strange camp. Kneeling before me, pale but still heartbreakingly handsome, is my Beta, my Shade.