Page 145 of Conform
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t.
Panic rose in my throat. I sucked in all the air that I could and went under, the water washing away the tears I held at bay as the world went quiet.
I stayed in that quiet, trying to banish Hal with each beat of my heart. My lungs began to burn.
Still, I pushed against the need for air.
Only when small stars burst before my eyes did I admit defeat. I emerged, gulping oxygen as a heaviness fell over me.
My heart hadn’t taken him away.
I mindlessly dumped soap in my hands and washed my hair and body, scrubbing every inch before dunking again to rinse away the soap. I started again, washing everything away. But no matter how I scrubbed, I didn’t feel clean. I couldn’t get back to the woman I once was.
Collin would return from those flames, and I would be his Mate.
A heaviness blanketed me. I didn’t fight it. I closed my eyes.
I was back in the tunnels, running. Sprinting for my life, but I was alone in the dark. I wouldn’t make it.
A dark form shifted to my left, my name piercing the dark. I ran to the voice frantically. I couldn’t breathe.
And in the darkness, I let go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
FIRM HANDS PULLED ME UP, AND I BURST TO THE SURFACE, spluttering and coughing. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub.
“Are you all right?” a deep voice asked.
“I—I fell asleep,” I gasped. The room had grown dark. How long had I been in the tub? Midnight hair came into view. My stomach plummeted to the ground below at the sight of my Mate. “You made it out?”
Collin released my arms. “I did.”
“What are you doing here?” The acrid smell of smoke radiated from him.
“Phillip said you had shut yourself in your quarters. I knocked. You didn’t answer, so I came in to check. You were asleep in the tub. I didn’t plan to wake you, but you began thrashing around and went under, so I pulled you out. I have seen enough death today.”
Collin leaned against the counter. The soft sound of water dripping from his green-clad arms filled the room. For once, his hair was disheveled. Soot marred his face. I wrapped my arms around myself.
The attack. The raging fire. I felt my anxiety returning with each breath—clutching me in a choke hold. “Is it bad?”
Collin nodded, staring at his wet hands. My arms tightened around me.
“I will give you privacy. There’s food.” Collin turned toward the door, his heavy gear shifting as he did.
He looked so at odds with the Collin I knew in suits. I took him in, the polished exterior shed for something more real—more lethal.
“Why are you in that gear?” I asked.
He stopped at the door. “I was in the Elite Force before I became an Illum. The role I have for the Illum . . . it’s because of this.” He gestured to the gear.
“You never told me that.”
“You never asked,” Collin said over his shoulder as he left.
Several minutes later I stood in front of the mirror, taming my wild curls. I wore black silk pants and a matching long-sleeve top. The colors and options had been too overwhelming, and the dark simplicity soothed me.
