Alive, alive, alive.
Her eyes slowly opened.
Alive.
He hadn't just replayed finding Mom's cold corpse.
Kira was warm.
Alive.
And fucking broken.
Even in torment, her eyes never dulled, only defiantly shone brighter. Not this time. They looked lifeless.
Dried blood creased her eyelids and coated her face. He could see where she'd tried to smear it away, but there'd been too much.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, afraid to hear the answer.
No response. Like she didn't hear him. Blank eyes stared at him.
“Kira.” Scanning her body, he searched for injury but only saw blood. So much that he had no way of knowing if any of it was hers.
But he didn't think it was. No, the Phaedra had left her soaked in the blood of the Followers all these days.
He pried matted strands of hair from her face. “Nod if you're hurt.”
Kira didn't answer. Her breathing was shallow, but it didn't sound pained. Looking at the blood staining her nails, a terrible truth crashed into him. A final, killing blow from the Phaedra's punishment.
It was Mom's blood.
Visceral pain pricked every inch of his body and grew to tidal waves that knocked the wind and life from him.
Mom bled and died in that room where he dragged Kira through the gore. She wasn't just covered in the Follower's blood. She'd been drenched in his mother's blood too.
Zayne dipped forward, fighting to keep himself from throwing up. Vision blurry, he struggled to hold onto his consciousness. It wasn't anything he could control. Shock and horror and darkness no person had ever created words for, strangled the life from his body.
Numb from head to toe, lungs burning, he slid his arms beneath Kira's legs and shoulders and ripped her from the blood, trapping her on the ground. He held her tight against his chest, panic rising at how she didn't stir. How limp she lay in his arms.
All these days, left like this. Alone.
It wasn't possible to think or speak. Zayne's body acted on its own. His steps wavered as he carried Kira to the shower and lowered her, tucking her legs inside. Wasting no time, he turned the water on full blast.
Only nothing came out. Not a single drop.
That was when he noticed the dark red streaks coating the shower walls and floor. He'd fixated so singularly on Kira that he hadn't taken in the rest of the room. Turning, he found red all over the sink. There wasn't a drop of water in this room.
No food or clothes either. No bed, blankets, or sheets.
When was the last time she had anything to drink?
Rage broke through the bottomless shock and grief. “I'll be back soon. I promise.”
Finally, Kira reacted. Her head shifted toward him, pleading filling her eyes. How could he leave her like this?
But he had to. He had to help her.
“I promise.”
