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In my arms she breaks.
I feel her heart splintering, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I can’t stop the blood from pouring from this woman anymore than I can stop the river of grief spilling from Cyn’s eyes.
“Hold on. We’ll get you help,” I say, knowing it’s a lie, knowing that there’s too much blood and we have no means to help her. She’s fading fast. Colour leeches from her skin. Her lips are tinged blue, her eyes glazing over.
Cyn pushes off me and presses her broken fingers against the woman’s stomach, her voice scratching, hoarse, as she tries to form words.
“Pl-eeaass-eee,” she sobs.
“It’s too late,” the woman says, her lips wobbling as Cyn clutches the material of her robe and cups the woman between the legs if that alone will stop the bleeding.
“N-O!” Cyn cries, shaking, trembling, as she crawls up the woman’s body, reaching her face, smearing blood across the woman’s pale cheeks.
“Cyn–” My voice cracks as I reach for her.
But she shakes me off, glaring at me with angry, grief-riddled eyes.
“I w-want you to l-live,” the woman whispers, her shaking hands reaching up to cup Cyn’s face.
Cyn shakes her head vehemently, her tears dropping and mingling with those of the woman.
Death isn’t far away. I recognise the grip it has on this woman, the cool dark fingers drawing colour from her skin and light from her eyes.
She’s almost gone.
Bowing over her body, Cyn cups the woman’s face, begging her to live with her kisses and her tears, her sobs and wretched cries of agony.
Loss and grief pours from the woman I love and it tears a hole right in my chest. Tears stream down my face as I cry for them both. I cry for the trauma they’ve so obviously shared and bonded over, for the friendship that has so cruelly been taken from them, for the loss of an innocent life that never got to live, and the chance for a woman who’s obviously been through hell, to heal.
In my peripheral vision I see Arden and Lorcan approach, the sickening scent of blood thick in the air, eyes wide with horror as they watch the scene unfold. Our ragged breathing is another chorus of suffering as we all bear witness to the devastation unfolding before us. Beast and Connall join us, their ragged, blood-soaked bodies testament to the violence they've endured. And then, The Masks step forward, our sworn enemies for so many years, standing side-by-side with my brothers, and my friends. Their silent support and sympathy is worth so much more than a past filled with vengeance and hate. Together we watch life fade away, an unspoken bond forming between us.
“Livefor me and my baby…”
And with those parting words, her hands fall from Cyn’s face like lead weights, eyes staring, chest still, a pool of blood forming around them both.
Cyn screams.
She screams and screams and screams, the sound coming from a voice broken by trauma and a heart annihilated by loss. I feel her pain cut through me like a white-hot poker, my heart breaking alongside hers. The pain is relentless even after Cyn faints in my arms, consumed by an unbearable, shattering grief.
16
Cyn
Pain.
So much pain.
My body aches.
Every breath is a sharp stab to my side.
My throat burns, my ribs throb.
I can't swallow without wishing I could pass out.
I can't breathe without longing for oblivion.
