“They broke their promise to me,” he announces. Why is he still talking? I need a drink. I jolt forward and the wheels on the bottom of the bed move, pushing me close to the door. Someone spreads it wide open, and then I’m moving. Farther and farther down a black hole…

Faces fade in and out, moving closer to me and then backing away. Orange flames explode somewhere in the back, but I can’t even keep my head up.

“Up her dose. She’s too aware.”

“No, she needs to be, partly.” Metal clinks together, but I fight to keep my eyes open. Desperate. Frustration claws its way into my brain when I can’t. I can feel my grasp on reality slowly slipping away. Heat licks over my thighs and I force my heavy eyes open to see what it is. Flames. Someone standing near the edge, holding a burning stick.

“You don’t want her organs?” someone asks in the background, and my mind is catching up, but my body won’t hurry.

“No. I had other plans for her.”

“And now?” the man asks over the clinking of utensils.

“Now, we’re going to make sure she looks clean enough.”

“…sir? That was your brother’s niche.”

“Until they killed him.”

My eyes finally close.

My hair sticks to my forehead, and my eyes slowly drift open. Everything aches. My legs, my body. I move my fingers and toes before slowly bringing my arms down and curling into a ball. I just want to sleep. Sleep…

A loud crash jolts me awake, this time entirely awake. “What!”

My head hurts and my body aches, and for a split second, I forget where I am.

Wicked’s eyes are feral and destructive when they land on me, but he launches forward and tears the chains from whatever wooden bed I’m hooked onto, scooping me up. Blood smears over my cheek from his chest, but I stay curled into him as he carries me out the door. How long have I been here? Days? Months? Oh my God, Wolf.

“Hey!” He kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” I jolt beneath his hands when he kicks open a door and cold air pinches over my face. Bikes fire up as a door opens and he gently puts us both into a back seat, never letting me go.

“How long—” My body shakes as that same coldness sticks to my bones. I quiver as ice slides through my veins. My head itches for relief. Anything to stop my fucking eyes from burning in the back of my head.

“Four hours.” His voice is low but gentle.

“Four hours?” I repeat, my teeth chattering. “I thought it was weeks.”

“Psh”—Wicked snickers—“like fuck I wouldn’t find you sooner. I’m just sorry it took me four hours.” He rubs circles over my arm as whoever it is driving continues.