Page 169 of Cerulean Truth
"I have to. It's the only way. You’re a Healer, you’ll fix me up when I’m done." With a deep breath, Maria began to translate, her powerful golden haze glowing with an intense light.
“Maria, no!” Maurice shouted in agony, but she ignored his pleas. The energy she summoned was overwhelming, and with a determined desperate push, she sent a shockwave through the cave, throwing the Board members back down the stairs and creating a temporary barrier.
She collapsed almost immediately. Maurice scooped her up, his expression a mix of fear and admiration. "We've got to move, now!" he said, urgency in his voice.
We continued our ascent, bursting through a door at the top of the stairs and into the cool night air. Our pursuers were already recovering from Maria's translation, and we could hear them regrouping below.
"This way!" I led them toward a hidden path through the rocks. "I bubbled in our cabin for safety before we left. They can’t get in. We can hide there while we find a way to portal out."
We sprinted through the underbrush, the branches whipping against our skin and the tangled roots threatening to trip us up. I could feel the sticky warmth of blood seeping through my clothes, a persistent sting that reminded me of the injury I couldn’t afford to think about right now. Every breath was a ragged gasp, every step a jarring thud against the uneven ground.
I glanced over my shoulder repeatedly, each time making sure Emma was still with me, her face a grim mask of determination.
The cabin finally came into view, a small, weathered structure barely visible through the dense trees. A surge of relief hit me as we barreled toward it, the door slamming shut behind us with a heavy, echoing bang. Inside, the dim light was a welcome contrast to the chaos we had just escaped. We collapsed against the walls, the adrenaline still coursing through us as we tried to catch our breath and process the sudden shift from frantic flight to temporary safety.
"We should be safe here for a while," I said, breathing heavily. "Let's figure out our next move."
As we gasped for air and tended to Maria, the gravity of the situation hit us hard. The Board had proven they'd stop at nothing, and we braced ourselves for whatever was coming our way.
Emma and I decided to retreat to our chamber, giving the Maumars some privacy.
“Thank the gods we got out of there alive,” Emma mumbled, entering the room and closing the door behind me.
I nodded, but as the adrenaline wore off, dizziness hit me hard. My side throbbed mercilessly, the pain escalating with each passing second. It was becoming almost unbearable. Stumbling over nothing, I tried to grab something and reached for Emma’s arm. Her brows furrowed in alarm, her eyes scanning me frantically.
"James?" she whispered, her voice thick with concern. "What’s wrong?"
I grunted as Emma tried to support me, attempting to downplay the severity of my injury.
"It's nothing, just a scratch," I muttered, my voice barely steady.
Emma’s concern bulldozed right past my flimsy protest. I tried to stop her, but I lacked the physical strength, and with surprising force, she shoved me onto the bed and pulled up my shirt, revealing the wound.
Her eyes widened in terror as she gasped. "James, you're bleeding!" Her voice shook with panic. "This isn’t just a scratch—you’re losing way too much blood!"
"Emma, I'm fine," I insisted, though the words came out weak and unconvincing.
“You’re not fine,” she hissed, then yelled out for Maurice, her voice laced with pure terror.
Maurice hurried upstairs, leaving his dying wife behind. He moved quickly but with precision, kneeling beside me to examine the wound, his fingers firm but careful as he prodded around the injury, assessing the damage. The room fell into a tense silence as Emma and I waited for his verdict.
Maurice’s expression grew more grave with each passing second, his brow furrowing deeply. Finally, he looked up, concern etched into his eyes. "James, this is serious," he said,his tone calm but firm. "The wound is deep, and you’re losing a dangerous amount of blood."
I could’ve killed him for making Emma worry. She fuckingwhimperedat his words.
“So fix it,” I ordered through my teeth, trying to bite through the pain.
“I can’t heal you properly in here, without translation. I’ll do what I can and pack the wound. I can’t discern whether it has punctured something vital, but either way, you shouldn’t move. Once the bubbles are lifted, I’ll heal you completely. For now, we can only stabilize the bleeding. Emma, help me get him horizontal; he’ll bleed less that way.”
I groaned as they moved me to the head of the bed. Maurice ran back downstairs to get whatever tools he needed, while Emma sat next to me, looking at me like I was the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Despite my attempts to remain stoic, a deep warmth spread through me at the sight of Emma's heightened concern.She is so beautiful.So fucking fierce.
My hand reached for her face and she cupped her cheek into it. “Why didn’t you tell me you were stabbed?” she whispered, grabbing my hand in hers while I wiped away a tear running down her cheek.
“I had to get you out first; there wasn’t any time.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “You’d kick my ass if the roles were reversed.”
I growled at the mere thought of her being hurt. “You’re damn right I would.”
