Page 70 of Breaking Isolde

I flip them off, “Sick fucks, now fuck off.” They laugh again, and then they're gone, the slap of their boots fading down the path.

Isolde stands tall beside me, her body a ruined masterpiece. My fingerprints bruise her hips, bite marks bloom on her neck. Sheis exhausted, every muscle slack, but her hands never let go of me.

I brush the hair from her face. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, rimmed with red.

She looks at me, really looks, and her lip quivers.

"You won't leave me?"

I shake my head, stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles. "Not ever."

She nods, as if that's enough, but her hands start to shake. She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face in my chest.

"Keep me safe," she says. "Please."

I bend down, kiss the crown of her head, press my lips into her tangled hair until I can feel her pulse against my mouth.

"Until my last breath," I promise.

Isolde sighs and closes her eyes, still clinging to me.

I lift her, cradle her in my arms, and carry her down the path, away from the altar, away from the blood and the past.

She shivers, and I hug her a little tighter.

I walk us back to the dorms, through the empty quad, my jacket wrapped around her naked body. Her head rests on my shoulder, weightless.

We make it to my room and I lower her onto the bed, careful of her wounds. I find a clean towel, make it damp, wipe her down, bandage her cuts. It takes the better part of an hour and numerous towels that I will need to throw out, but she’s too exhausted to bath. She watches, silent, as I work.

Her stomach growls, but I have a more pressing issue to deal with.

“We need to warm you, your feet aren’t looking so hot.”

She rolls her eyes, “Yeah, that’s what happens when you force a girl to run around in the frost.”

“Mmmm, yeah, and it looks like you might have frostbite. I’ll warm your feet slow to try minimize damage.”

She laughs, “Wouldn’t that be a cute story to tell our kids? ‘Mommy why’s your toe missing?’”

I laugh despite how dark the joke is and get to work slowly warming her. By the time I’m done her feet are back to being pink, even if they’re cut and bruised to shit.

When I finish, she pulls me onto the bed beside her, tucks herself into my chest, and falls asleep.

I watch her, every breath, every tremor, and know that whatever comes next, it will be war if they try take her from me.

Maybe Cai was right.

Maybe we should skip this shit and bounce.

We will see what tomorrow brings.

Chapter 15: Isolde

Atfirstit’sblack,then the red behind my eyelids, then sunlight bleeding in. My body is one giant gash, the pain echoing in every finger, every toe, every inch of skin that got sanded raw in the hunt.

I don’t remember falling asleep. The last thing I remember is the feel of his arm around my waist, the weight of his chin on the top of my head, his breath warm against my scalp, hot then cold, then just there, refusing to leave. Then: lights out.

Now I wake, full and present, the kind of awake where your first thought is “am I dead?” and your second is “am I still me?”