Page 51 of Frosted Torment

“Wake up,” Vincent pleaded under his breath. “You can’t be gone.”

Dawson’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the gun tighter, ready to squeeze the trigger.

“Drop the gun, Dawson,” Jossy shouted in desperation.

Dawson didn’t move. He stood guarding a threat I’d yet to see. “Not gonna happen, son,” he replied with sturdy defiance.

A gurgling noise erupted from Sasha’s mouth. Blood gushed up like a crimson sea, and she choked.

“Turn her on her side!” My words echoed through the clearing.

Worry guided my hands as I carefully grabbed Sasha’s arms and legs to flip her over. I sat next to her and rubbed her back. Ena rushed to help make Sasha comfortable. Her brow furrowed as if willing life back into Sasha’s frail form.

Moments later, Nakoma arrived with a medical kit clutched in his hands. Ena checked Sasha’s vitals—her fingers dancing over the pulse points—then shook her head with a grave expression. Each shallow, ragged breath Sasha dragged in sounded like the last one she’d ever take.

Sasha strained to squeeze my hand. It was a faint warmth in the encroaching darkness, but her body was giving in to whatever fate awaited her. Nakoma drew up a syringe from a vial of clear fluid, its contents almost invisible in the fading light.

“It’s a sedative,” he offered as he injected a shot into her arm. A small act of mercy before rejoining Jossy by his side.

The end was coming for Sasha. But it felt too slow. Each moment was an eternity of dread and despair. My stomach knotted as tears spilled down my cheeks.

“How is she even alive?” I pleaded, searching for answers in the faces surrounding me.

Vincent’s face twisted in terror as he leaped up, ignoring Dawson’s gun trained on him. He grabbed fistfuls of his own hair in torment as if trying to pull himself back from some precipice of despair. I didn’t know if a gun could kill angels or if bullets had any power against them, but Dawson seemed convinced. His pistol never wavered from Vincent’s trembling frame.

“Start talkin’, Vincent,” Dawson demanded with an edge of fury. “Is what Maros said true?”

“Dawson, lower the gun, please,” Jossy begged. He stepped forward as if attempting to close an irreconcilable gap between them. “I’m sure Vincent can explain everything.”

Dawson’s eyes remained fixed on Vincent. “Oh, he’ll spill his guts,” he hissed, then pushed past Jossy, placing the gun against Vincent’s chest. “How’s a woman who killed herself the same night Scarlett died, layin’ here now?”

My head snapped up as a surge of clarity hit me. Lying protectively over Sasha’s lifeless body was the other wolf, and it dawned on me that he was her guardian. Somehow, he remained here while Vincent kept Sasha alive.

Vincent cursed. Strangled breaths escaped him as his eyes narrowed to slits. They were feral.

“You won’t kill me, Dawson,” he spat.

“Try us,” Nevaeh challenged. She drew her own pistol from its holster with practiced ease and pointed it at Vincent. “Sasha took her own life the night of the fire,” she said. “What is this blasphemy?”

Lex stepped behind me, expanding his wings wide enough tocast a shadow across where we all stood. “Vincent won’t touch you, Noa,” he assured me.

The Earth began to tilt as understanding set in that Maros was telling the truth. It was Vincent who’d wanted all the power for himself. With my friends watching my back, I pleaded in silence for some way to ease Sasha’s passing but found no answer. My words fell flat against cruel fate, and my hope shattered like glass.

As I looked down, Sasha’s eyes overflowed with ceaseless tears. “Please. Somebody help her,” I begged again.

“We can’t, honey.” Nevaeh’s voice wavered as she spoke to me over her shoulder, but her eyes never left Vincent. “If Vincent did what we suspect, there is only one way to release Sasha from this.”

I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat and shifted my gaze toward Vincent.

“What did you do?” I sneered.

Nevaeh stepped closer to Vincent and looked up at him, determined to get answers. “You gave her your essence, didn’t you?” she accused him.

Vincent wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “What of it, human?” he snapped back with contempt and spit on her shoes.

“There are rules here, Noa,” Dawson said to me, sympathy filling his voice. “If you wanna end Sasha’s torment, you have to do it.”

“No.” I shook my head in denial. “No,” I said again. It was the only word I could manage to get past my lips.

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