Page 183 of King of Envy

Boiling heat and fetid scents engulfed us. Due to the warehouse’s sheer size, the fire hadn’t reached us yet, but it was close. Too close.

Sean gagged while I stared at the flames, my feet rooted to the ground. The smell reminded me so much ofthatnight. Past and present blurred together as images of my brother’s charred corpse flashed through my head.

If you don’t move, the same thing’s going to happen to Ayana.

The thought spurred me into action again becausefuckthat. Nothing was going to happen to her. Not while I lived and breathed.

My pyrophobia retreated to a distant corner of my mind as I searched frantically for her amidst the smoke and shadows. It was impossible to see clearly. Where?—

“There!” Sean shouted. He pointed to a figure on the ground about fifty feet away.

I was already moving.Sprintingas fast as my injured leg would allow. It was the same strength that allowed mothers to lift cars off their child and other superhuman feats. I barely felt the gunshot wound or heard Sean behind me.

Every cell of my body, every ounce of my attention, was locked in on Ayana’s motionless form.

When I got closer, I was relieved to see she was breathing, albeit shallowly. She was already weak and exhausted after a full day of captivity; she must’ve passed out from the smoke inhalation.

“It’s okay, baby.” It was my turn to lift her up and wrap an arm around her. She didn’t wake up. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

I staggered with her toward the exit. The flames were closing in. Their greedy fingers grasped at our backs, hungry for more flesh to devour.

Sean met me halfway. He draped Ayana’s other arm around his neck and together, we half-ran, half-dragged her across the remaining two dozen feet, through the door, and into the night air. We made it a quarter of the way across the parking lot before the fire swallowed metal and concrete whole.

The warehouse erupted behind us, fully ablaze.

Someone took Ayana; someone else pulled me toward the car.

I was aware people were talking, and things were moving, but I couldn’t make sense or shape of them.

Their voices fell away, and the last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the orange glow of fire painted across the night sky.

CHAPTER53

Ayana

Smoke inhalation. A sprained shoulder. Bruises and cuts all over. Oh, and someone’s death on my hands plus trauma for life unless—or even if—I got areallygood therapist.

But I was alive.

Wewere alive. The people who mattered, anyway. Emmanuelle, Wentworth, and the rest of their co-conspirators could rot in hell for all I cared.

In the grand scheme of things, it could’ve been worse.

Still, my nerves were shot as I approached Vuk’s room. Sean and Jeremiah conferred quietly outside.

“Ayana.” Jeremiah saw me first. Worry filled his eyes. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“If I stay in bed any longer, I’ll fuse with the mattress,” I said with a weak smile. It’d been three days since my rescue, and all I’d done in between doctor’s visits was eat, sleep, and watch bad reality TV. I’d spoken to Vuk twice, but there was so much chaos after my kidnapping and Emmanuelle’s death that we hadn’t had time for a proper conversation. “Is he awake?”

“Yes. You’ll be happy to hear he’s been terrorizing everyone,” Sean said. “Almost bit the doctor’s head off when he said he couldn’t see you this morning. The only reason the man’s still alive is because he said you were sleeping and that Vuk shouldn’t disturb your rest.”

I laughed. “I am glad to hear that. At least he’s back to form.”

I left Sean and Jeremiah to their conversation and entered Vuk’s room. He was sitting up in bed, his face set in a frown while a nurse checked his vitals. She excused herself when she saw me and sped out.

“I heard you’ve been terrorizing your doctors again,” I teased, taking a seat by his bedside.

“Not terrorizing. Supervising—which I wouldn’t have to do if they did their job properly. It’s been days. There’s no reason to keep me cooped up in here like I’m dying,” Vuk grumbled, but his frown softened when I gently touched his leg. A nonstick bandage protected the gunshot wound on his thigh; smaller bandages covered various cuts and bruises across his body.

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