Page 198 of Cerulean Truth
Leaving the room, I moved with determined urgency, my footsteps loud through the hallways. My eyes searched through every door, every corner, as I desperately sought any clue that would lead me to Emma.Where the hell is she?
A muffled sound caught my attention—a distant cry, a plea for help. Instinctively, I followed the sound, pushing myself to move faster. As I turned a corner, my heart skipped a beat. There, at the end of the hallway, a door slightly ajar revealed a sliver of light.
With a burst of speed, I reached the door and yanked it open. The scene greeting me, installed both relief and horror.
Emma, battered but resilient, stood among a bouquet of lifeless bodies, resembling the godsdamn Angel of Death.
Her eyes widened upon spotting me, a mix of disbelief and hope flashing through them, “James? What are you doing here?”
There I was, ready to save her from all her attackers, only to discover she never needed me in the first place. To be honest, my hero-ego took a little beating.
I scratched my neck, attempting to compose myself.
"Well, uhm… rescuing you, actually..." I admitted, my words trailing off as I took in the devastation surrounding us.
Emma arched a skeptical brow, a glimmer of humor in her eyes. "Really?" A slow smile illuminated her face. “What happened? You took pity on the turtle and let him win?”
I snorted, closing the distance with a step toward her. "Nah, I just figured you needed the warm-up before I stole your thunder."
She grinned, her expression sly.
Ignoring the magically enhanced decay of the corpses around us, I made my way through the bodies, my eyes never straying from hers. I wanted to ask her if she was all right but the words stayed stuck in my throat.
Her smile slowly faded, and a more serious expression crossed her features.
"Thank you," she murmured softly, "for training me. I wouldn't be standing here if you hadn't. I can't…" She sighed heavily, her gratitude tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
I'd almost reached her, aching to hold her in my arms. “You're very welcome,” I whispered, extending my hand to her, yearning for her touch and the reassurance that she was okay. Simply seeing her wasn’t enough; I needed to be certain. I had to hold her, make sure she was breathing and well.
But she stiffened, then took a step away from me.
I frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”
She kept staring at me without uttering another word, keeping her distance. My heart sank, and I let out a deep sigh. My failed attempt at rescue clearly didn't erase the past few days.
"You're still angry with me," I said, grasping the unspoken message. She didn’t reply.
"Let's get you home first; we'll talk later," I promised softly, extending my hand once again.
Then, without warning, her eyes rolled back, and I caught her just in time before she collapsed in my arms.
FIFTY-FIVE
JAMES
I portaled straight into Justine's dorm. By the time we arrived, blood was seeping from Emma’s eyes and mouth.
"She's not waking up!" I shouted, my voice a raw blend of desperation and fury. Justine, sensing the urgency and seeing the grim state Emma was in, didn't waste a moment on questions she knew I couldn’t answer. Without hesitation, she took Emma from my arms and sprang into action.
"They fucked up her arm!" I said, my voice shaking with anger. I quickly removed the loose bandage that barely covered the gaping wound in her arm, revealing the extent of the damage.
"It looks like she's been sedated," Justine analyzed swiftly, her eyes scanning Emma's form.
My fists clenched; the thought of sedation stirred a surge of rage, and the desire to murder those responsible flared within me once more.
"Then don’t just stand there; do something!" I snapped. Justine raised a brow at my brutality, but I couldn't find it in me to apologize.
Emma is... fuck, she is...
