Page 25 of Knotting the Cowboys

Everything burns.

But then?—

Different voices.

Not Blake's casual cruelty but urgent shouts.

"In here! I've got her!"

Strong hands. Not hurting but helping, breaking the cuffs with bolt cutters. The bite of metal giving way to freedom, but I'm already going under, smoke-drunk and dying.

"Stay with me, sweetheart. I've got you."

Pine and leather. Safety in the middle of hell.

"Get her out! Structure's compromising!"

More hands.

Gentle despite urgency, lifting me like I weigh nothing.

Rain-soaked earth and calm in chaos.

"Clear the door! Medical standing by!"

Smoke and cinnamon, sharp eyes checking for threats even as the world burns.

"She's not breathing right. Smoke inhalation, possible?—"

Clean linen and desperate care, hands checking my pulse as they run.

Four scents.

Four voices.

Four saviors when I'd resigned myself to death.

But that's impossible.

That's not?—

My knees hit the kitchen floor, though I don't remember falling.

Luna's weight is gone, someone having grabbed her before I could drop her. My hands claw at my throat as phantom smoke fills lungs already scarred from the real thing.

Can't breathe. Can't breathe. Can't?—

The world spins sideways, gray edges creeping in. Somewhere distant, urgent voices call my name. But all I can see is orange flames. All I can feel is metal on my wrists.

All I can hear is Blake explaining why I deserve this, have always deserved this, for being wrong and inappropriate and too much and not enough and?—

"Willa!"

But I'm already gone, drowning in memories that feel more real than the kitchen floor under my knees.

Saviors Awaiting Their Princess

~WILLA~

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