Page 178 of My Undead Love Life

Keith closed his hand around mine. Oxi took the other. Their gloves were warm compared to my fingers.

“Focus on us,” Keith told me. “Not them. Not what happened.”

“Just walk,” Oxi added softly. “One step at a time. That’s it.”

Mad moved to the front again. Luck stayed beside him, but both of them were closer than before. “We’re almost there, flare,” Mad promised.

I nodded, though my throat felt too tight to answer.

We started moving. My legs worked, but the movements felt automatic, like I was watching someone else walk through the trees with Keith and Oxi holding her hands. Snow crunched beneath my boots. The sound was both too loud and far away.

Luck and Mad kept checking back at us without turning fully around. Mad’s shoulders stayed rigid. Luck’s pistol remained in his hand.

“You did what you had to do,” Keith said after several minutes. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Say it,” Oxi pressed.

My stomach tightened. “I did what I had to do.”

“You protected yourself,” Mad stated.

“I protected myself.”

“And us,” Luck added.

I swallowed. “And the men I love.”

Oxi’s and Keith’s grip tightened faintly.

Keith brushed his thumb over the back of my glove. “You aren’t bad because you survived someone trying to hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered.

I did know that. It was self-defense. Somewhere beneath the shock, I knew the man had made a choice. He had grabbed me. His group had surrounded us. They had talked about trading me as if I were another weapon or package of food.

I had not created the situation. I put an end to it. We all did.

“We’ll deal with the rest later,” Keith promised. “You don’t have to carry all of it right now.”

One step.

Then another.

Their hands never left mine.

Slowly, the world began returning around the edges.

Two hours passed after the run-in with the other survivors. Two long, quiet hours where none of us spoke unless we had to. The only sounds were our boots pressing into snow, the occasional creak of the trees, and the wind slipping through bare branches in a low, eerie howl.

Exhaustion pulled at us from every direction. Luck’s limp had worsened slightly, though he denied it each time we asked. Mad checked his map more frequently, his movements sharper with impatience. Oxi and Keith never released my hands for more than a few seconds.

The blood on my glove had dried. I had wiped my cheek with snow until the skin burned, but I could still smell iron. I was beginning to think we would never make it when a shredded bark cut through the silence.

It was raw, broken, but close.

Mad, Luck, and Oxi tensed instantly. Their weapons came up, but Keith and I didn’t react. Relief hit me so fast my knees nearly gave out.