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“Fucking Christ. Let go or I’ll burn you to ash!”
My eyes locked onto Arthur’s and I immediately let go of his neck because it was bleeding like crazy.
“Shit,” I cursed and realized how out of breath I was, which only triggered more coughs. I thought it would stop, but it turned into gasps, to the point that I was turned over and my back was being patted firmly.
“Fuck. Listen. I ain’t no counselor, but if you’re gonna have a bloody panic attack, I think you need to wait till your lover is awake.”
Fuck. William!
I fought against my own fearful panic to attempt to look around for William. I didn’t need to search far: her body was mere steps from us.
She was back in her female form, clearly unconscious and covered in cuts and bruises.
Someone was going to kick my ass for bringing her back like that—my bet was on Onyx or Neo—but the slight rise and fall of her chest confirmed she was alive and breathing.
Peering back at Arthur, I had to ask, “Did you pull us out?”
“Of this part of the collapsed church?” he offered and huffed. “Sadly. The idea of you two being dead left me in a state of unease and I hate being uncomfortable. It’s not good for my mental health.”
“Still a nuisance,” I concluded and patted my chest a few times in hopes it would loosen the tightness that always lingered before and after a panic attack.
I wasn’t expecting his grip on my shoulder, which forced me to give him an unflinching gaze.
“What?”
"What did he do to you?”
I blinked and stared because I had no intention of answering his question.
I had to have uttered something during my unconsciousness for him to ask such a question, but despite our similarities, I couldn’t talk about something so dreadful.
Not now when we were still on the enemy’s playing field.
Arthur stared at me for a few added seconds before he bobbed his head in understanding.
“How odd we’re so similar,” he muttered under his breath before he further gripped my shoulder to the point that it hurt.
“Hey.”
“Shut it for a second,” he hissed and further crouched to the floor. His free hand outstretched in Willow’s direction and I watched as strings of orange were projected into existence and wrapped around her wrists and ankles.
He moved her slowly, as if to not attract anyone’s attention. The moment she was practically next to me, pieces of broken wood levitated and covered us like a fort.
All I could do was question him with my eyes, but the look he gave me was filled with fright and that told me to shut the fuck up.
Only one person can clearly ignite fear in this man’s eyes.
"What is the meaning of this?!” The shrill screech was completely uncalled for and clearly belonged to a female.
“Y-Your Majesty?!” It was Christopher’s stuttering voice that drew my attention to what was happening as there were groans and coughs from what I’d assume were the survivors of the blast.
“Where is that mutt slave?” The question came from a familiar male voice, one that made my lips dip and anger burn through me.
Garfield.
"We don’t know who you’re referring to, sir.”
"Arthur!” the woman’s voice boomed. “Where is he! My second-in-command.”
