Page 65 of Hunted to the Altar

The rug snagged one of the wheels. My body tipped. I didn’t even have the strength to brace myself as I fell forward and crumpled to the cold marble.

Blood smeared across the floor beneath me.

Not a trickle.

Not a smear.

A pool.

I tried to crawl toward the bathroom. Each movement cost more breath than I had. Each inch was a war.

I was leaving a red trail behind me. Like an animal crawling off to die.

Another contraction hit, and this time it felt like my insides were being torn apart.

I screamed again, raw, hoarse, inhuman.

Then I heard it–

The sound of boots pounding down the hallway.

"NINA!"

Samuel.

The door flew open.

"NINA!"

I tried to lift my head, but the room spun violently. The blood was sticky against my cheek.

Then his hands were on me—hot, shaking, frantic.

He gathered me into his arms, lifting me like I weighed nothing. My head lolled against his chest.

I heard his heartbeat. Fast. Terrified.

"Hold on," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "Hold on,tesero, please."

I couldn’t speak.

I couldn’t breathe.

The last thing I saw before the world blacked out was his blood-covered hands clutched around me.

Voices swirled around me.

Barking. Orders. Metal clattering.

Something cool pressed against my arm—an IV needle, I thought dimly, but it barely registered. My body was no longer mine. It was shutting down.

I felt hands moving fast, cutting off my clothes. Cloth gave way to shears. My blood was on the tile. On the shears. On them.

“She's crashing.”

“Keep pressure here.”

The voices didn’t belong to anyone I knew. Everything was white noise. Distant. Like I was watching from behind glass.