Page 48 of Between Despair and Hope

“Are you going to drag her there?”

“Oh no, I’m going to shift into Zen and carry her if I have to. He’s dead, by the way. Did you know ogres were that flammable? I didn’t. Gods, all it took was a spark, and he was done for—a giant flame! It was disgusting and amazing. Anyway, I can’t let you die while I carry her out. He has this whole ceremony planned, and he’ll be livid if he can’t swing your head around. So, you could do me the favor of carrying her, and that way neither of you die in the fire.”

“I can’t walk, you stupid fuck.”

“That wasn’t necessary.” She sighed, annoyed. “I suppose you’ll need to drag yourself then, since I’ll be carrying her.”

“Why should I even bother? Declan will torture us both.”

“Well, I’m sure that will be involved in what happens going forward, but it’s better than dying now, isn’t it?” She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. I stared at her features, pinpointing exactly what was wrong. This Emma didn’t have the same spread of freckles across her nose and cheeks. This Emma didn’t tug on her bottom lip with her teeth when she was thinking or tuck her hair behind her ear while she fidgeted. Fuck the draíbea for making me think this was her.

“I might be able to walk if you help me up.”

“Do you think I’m stupid? I watched you just throw yourself down in front of her. If any moment called for you successfully walking, it would’ve been that one.”

“Oh, fuck off. I was in a hurry to protect her from you. If you help me stand, my legs might hold my weight,” I countered.

She sighed, palming her mouth.

“I suppose I’ll just carry her and let you die. I’ll tell Declan it was too late by the time I got here. I’m doing you a favor, really. You probably don’t want to hear him fucking her.”

There was a crashing sound above us, and the ceiling shook once more, the censer swaying. The shifter coughed and leaned out of my cell, turning her head in the direction Dewalt had gone.

“Fuck. I’m not dying down here too.” Her eyes darted between Emma and me before she skittered past me, just out of reach. When she pulled Emma into her arms, a grunt escaping her lips, I saw regret cross her features. She dragged Emma a step, realizing she wouldn’t be able to carry her.

“Should have shifted into the ogre when you had the time,” I said, voice calm.

She dropped Emma’s limp form, and I cringed as my wife slumped over onto the ground, bashing her forehead. It was then I saw the decision to run on the shifter’s face, and I couldn’t let her get away. Palming my dagger once more, not sure I’d be able to do much with my aching joints, I cautiously adjusted on the ground where I’d landed.

Emma moaned, eyes closed, turning her head enough so I could see blood trickling from her nose. It was crooked, broken in the last few minutes. My poor love. I lost control of my temper, deciding the shifter would not make her way out of my gods damn cell. She darted to the side as my hand caught her ankle, and she fell, slamming hard to the ground.

I groaned, tugging on her leg as she kicked at me, and my knife skittered across the ground, away from us both.

Fuck.

Scrambling, the shifter kicked at my face, and her heel made contact with my chin, knocking my head back.

“Get the hell off me!” she screamed as I tugged her toward me, and I propelled myself at her, roaring through the pain. My body weight held her legs down as I pulled myself up her prone form. Her shirt moved as I pulled my way past unwelcoming hips and thighs, and a firm, flat stomach without a single gods damn differentiation of that pale skin. Proof they barely fucking tried and had managed to outwit me. Nails clawed at my shoulders as I dug my elbow into that wrong stomach and got my other hand around her throat.

She only had a second to scream as my other hand joined the first, grip tight around her neck. She kicked, trying to buck my body off her. Despite my weakened state, my hold was sure. I looked at my hands, the golden-brown hair spilling over the black stone floor, the rack against the wall—anywhere but at the face looking upward at me, eyes rolling back in her head. I couldn’t see that, didn’t want to see that. Finally, the kicking slowed and her body fell limp. I didn’t move as I held on a bit longer, letting my heaving gasps return to normal.

“She’s dead, Rain.” I glanced over my shoulder to see Emma sitting up, her hand over her broken nose as she stared at me. Her expression was blank, and I realized what the fuck she was seeing. I released the shifter, pushing away from her body. Unable to look at Emma, I stared at the woman I’d just killed. Nothing changed, the shifter on the ground looking just like the woman who sat a few paces away from me. I’d never thought about what might happen to a shifter who died in another form, but now I knew. I was dissatisfied, wishing to see the true face of the woman who had terrorized me for weeks.

“Go heal yourself,” I said, voice cracking.

“I need to heal you so you can walk.”

“Heal yourself first.”

I didn’t look at her as she rose, sighing, and stumbled into the corridor. I stared down at my hands while I waited. Strangling the shifter in front of her would haunt her, and I was so gods damn angry I had to do it. She’d been through enough already.

“Your turn.” Cool hands reached down for me as she bent over, trying to help me stand.

“My divinity, I might not be able to—”

“Stop talking and walk,” she ordered, pulling me to lean against her.

We stumbled our way out, my weight too much for her, and when I crossed the threshold, I pushed out of her grasp, attempting to get away from her when I realized what was happening. Being in that dampening cell for weeks had made my divinity spool like a gods damn spring, ready to burst. I wasn’t sure my body could take it.

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