Cormac pushes me back against the wall as bodies surge past, shouting and shoving as the guards try to regain control.
“Cormac—”
His arm locks around my waist. “I’ve got you. Stay with me.”
But staying with him isn’t something I get to choose.
The crowd surges, and someone slams into the side of me, knocking the breath from my lungs.
Another slams into Cormac, and I cry out as he loses his hold on me.
Momentum carries me sideways, scraping my arm against the cold concrete wall, and my hands instinctively claw for something,anything, to anchor myself.
Cormac reaches for me, his expression turning feral in an instant, but bodies crash between us, separating us even more.
Panic spikes as I desperately try to reach him.
“Cormac!” I scream, but my voice gets lost over the shouting of the inmates.
A guard suddenly grabs my arm, yanking me hard in the opposite direction, pulling me out of the surge.
“Secure room, now!” someone shouts.
“FIONA!” Cormac roars.
“Cormac!” I twist around, but the sea of bodies swallows him.
I’m dragged down a side corridor, my feet barely able to keep up.
My blood roars in my ears as I twist, straining to see past the chaos, searching for Cormac’s dark hair, his broad shoulders,anything.
I don’t see him.
He said he would stay with me. Hepromised?—
I’m shoved into a room, and the door slams shut with a finality that steals the air from my lungs. For a split second, I just stand there, frozen, my brain refusing to accept what’s happened.
Then instinct kicks in, and I surge forward, my palms slapping against the reinforced glass as I strain to see past the guard’s shoulder.
“Cormac!” I scream.
Bodies rush past in a blur of orange and gray.
Someone crashes into the wall so hard the impact rattles the door, sending a sharp tremor through my arms.
I flinch but don’t move, my eyes scanning desperately for any sign of him.
But there’s nothing.
I press my forehead to the glass, fogging it with my breath.
A guard positions himself by the door, blocking my view intermittently as he barks into his radio.
I don’t catch the words, only the sharp edge of urgency in his tone. I swallow hard, gripping the edge of the glass as though I could pull Cormac into view.
My thoughts spin out of control.
What if he’s hurt?
