The bolt must’ve nicked our heart.
The female drops her head close to the wound and sniffs, long and deep, then prods at its edge from a different angle. Another barreling wave of pain curls through my chest, forcing my body to buck as a hoarse cough hacks free.
Something warm splatters down my chin.
The female snarls and darts to her heaped treasures, pausing with her hand outstretched, like she’s reluctant to disturb their ramshackle order. She delicately shifts tarnished trinkets and gnarly bits of driftwood, easing a coil of rope from where it’s looped around the hook of a rusted anchor.
I’m still gasping through the pounding echo of pain when she straddles my crotch, manhandles my arms, and binds my wrists together with hands so fast they blur.
“Woah, hang on—”
She struggles to knot the thing, hissing at it.
“Look,” I spout as she gives up and tucks the tail between my wrists instead. “I like where this is going, and I’ll absolutely regret saying this, but I really don’t think this is the right time.”
She lifts her bum, sets my bound hands atop my crotch, and sits on them, pitching my pulse for an entirely different reason.
I realize just how bare she is beneath that oversized shirt. Just how soft and warm and—
My brain empties. Even the pain seems to dull.
Her hand plunges into me in a searing punch of pain straight through my fuckingcore.Brows knotted and eyes closed, she roots through my torn and bloody flesh.
I scream so loud my voice cracks as I jerk my arms and buck my hips.
Try to toss her off.
She tightens her thighs around me and continues to rearrange my insides. My body begins to shut down from the overwhelming surge of pain. A dark haze swells at the edge of my vision, sweeping me under, and my head lolls to the side …
Darkness.
I drift through a void of muddy delusion, ripped back to consciousness by another savage surge of pain. A violent roar claws from my throat as the female whips her hand free from my gaping wound, bloody fingers pinching something short and pointy, eyes glazed like she just won the fucking treasure hunt.
Sharp, shuddered breaths cut through my clenched teeth while she inspects the piece from all angles, her hand slathered in glossy blood drawing wiggly lines down her arm before dripping off her elbow.
She hisses at it—this vicious, wild sound.
I really hope she got it all. I’m not doing that shit again.
She dashes to the wooden door, rips it open, and darts out, leaving me smothered in blood and battling every painful gasp. The room floods with brisk air and a blinding wash of prism light, and I’m just squinting around, trying to find a piece of cloth to pack inside my wound when she returns—loudly—dragging something long and hard along the floor. It’s only once she slams the door and snips off the glow that I realize what it is.
The bolt that tore through my fucking body.
What a morbid keepsake.
“How did a … little thing like you manage to … lug that all the way … here?” I force out between labored breaths, watching her scan the barbed head.
No answer.
Piecing it in place, she clicks her tongue and tosses the intact bolt against the wall in a surprising show of strength. It clatters against the ground, the sharp sound echoing off the walls.
My cheeks fill with the remnants of my tortured breath before I slowly blow it out.
Guess she’s stronger than she looks.
The rope around my wrist unravels on its own, and I’m just slipping my hands free when a bowl of teal coagulated goo is shoved under my chin.
I blink up into wide, expectant eyes.
