Page 156 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

As my neck screamed in pain at the jerky movement, my eyes widened.

Scorpius was passed out with a large pool of blood spreading beneath his head. His large pale body was completely lifeless, blind eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Even the eye tattoo on his neck was shut tight.

Tara stared at me with sightless eyes; Horace gurgled as he went still; Sari glared at me with disgust.

Fuck.

I looked back at the timer. Two minutes, thirty seconds.

Other competitors were trying to help up their teammates. Some were puking blood, while others sobbed and refused to move.

The vibrations shaking through my bones were making it hard to see. Thick wetness poured down my face, and I knew it wasn’t tears.

My already weakened knees screamed in protest as I moved.

If I tried to carry Scorpius, I might not make it.

A headache split my temples like an ax was being bashed against my brain.

There was no time to plan.

I trembled with adrenaline and pain.

John motioned for me to move forward, then grimaced when he saw what I was staring at.

Two mammoth furry creatures hobbled past. They had wiry gray hair, long snouts, and mouths full of jagged teeth. They dragged themselves on all fours across the field. The leviathan competitors.

I ignored them and strained every pulled muscle in my body as I staggered toward the pale devil. Fell on my knees beside him.

Vision wavering.

Head splitting.

Arms shaking.

I dragged Scorpius’s arm across my shoulder and hauled us both upward.

It was like lifting three boulders at once. Stitches popped, and blood gushed down my limbs. We vibrated together, and his immense, muscled physique was the heaviest thing I’d ever supported.

He was dead weight.

Vomit dribbled from my lips.

His blood mixed with mine.

I squeezed my thighs for power and dragged his heavy body forward. One step at a time. Toward the other side of the arena.

One minute, fifty-nine seconds.

Dark spots dotted my vision.

I could barely make out competitors walking forward in front of me like they were fighting through an invisible wind.

Cobra carried Ascher across the white line and collapsed on the far side of the field.

That was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes. It hurt too much to see.

I just concentrated on one step.

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