Page 34 of The Immortal’s Mark

What starts as a dull ache blooms into something crueler, twisting deep in my muscles until it’s all I can feel. I jolt awake with a sharp inhale, but my body doesn’t move. My eyelids won’t open.

The agony spikes, every nerve set alight. I can feel everything, and yet… I can’t do anything.

I’m awake.

I know I’m awake.

I hear the faint ticking of the clock, the whisper of curtains shifting in a breeze, and I feel the familiar weight of sheets against my skin. But when I try to open my eyes, nothing happens. The darkness stays.

What the hell is going on?

Panic explodes through my chest. My pulse kicks into overdrive. Sweat beads along my hairline.

I will my hands to move, to twitch, to do something, but it’s like shouting into a void.

I want to scream. To call for help. My throat won’t cooperate.

My lips don’t even part.

I’m trapped inside my own body, a conscious mind locked behind an unresponsive shell.

It’s Adir’s stronghold all over again.

The memory snatches my mind in its clutches.

The God of War had forced me into that waking paralysis, leaving me aware but helpless, desperate for Des and Bella to realize I was still there. Only… that time, there hadn’t been pain. This agony is different. It feels alive, crawling beneath my skin, devouring me from the inside out.

Calm down. I force myself to breathe, or at least imagine breathing. Panicking won’t help.

I try to focus on the rhythm of my heart, to slow it, but it spikes instead.

A crack of white-hot energy slams into my chest, like lightning under my ribs. My nonexistent breath catches.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe!

A scream stays trapped inside me, looping through my skull until it’s all I can hear.

Then—footsteps. Fast. Heavy. The door slams open.

“Darcie!”

Des.

Relief floods me so hard it hurts. If I could cry out, I would.

“Darcie,” he calls again, closer this time. The mattress dips under his weight. A hand, cool, strong, grips my bare shoulder.

The contact should comfort me. Instead, pain detonates where he touches.

Every muscle spasms in protest. My vision, though blind, sparks white.

I can’t move. But I feel the tears now. Hot. Relentless. Sliding down my cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Des murmurs, pulling me upright. His voice trembles with an emotion I’ve never heard from him. “I know you’re in there. It’s going to be okay, Darcie. I promise.”

His arm presses to my back, solid, protective, and agonizing. My body shakes uncontrollably, muscles jerking with spasms. I can’t stop it.