Page 87 of Sinful

In the split-second it took me to realize I’d done it, I was already plummeting downward. Instinctively, I twisted my body midfall, but I was too late to avoid the trap entirely, and pain exploded in my chest and left shoulder as I landed.

Letting out a guttural, half-choked grunt, I looked down to see a sharpened stick jutting out of me, impaling me just below the collarbone.

“Fuck… no…” I gritted out, squeezing my eyes shut as I winced. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t go out like this, alone in a fucking spike pit. This had to be a nightmare that I’d wake from at any moment.Had to be.

I opened my eyes and looked down again, confirming that the dire situation was indeed happening. I was pinned and helpless, and blood was already soaking through the left half of my gray jacket, sticky warmth contrasting with the cold dread pooling in my stomach.

I was totally, utterly, completelyfucked.

As I struggled to breathe, each rasping inhalation sending waves of searing pain through my body, two realizations struck me. Firstly, if I hadn’t twisted at the very last second, the stick would’ve pierced my heart. I would be dead.

Secondly… Rose had tricked me. She was much smarter and more manipulative than I’d ever given her credit for, and I’d walked right into her trap. Fuckingliterally.

However, she wasn’t smart enough to realize one very important thing—she was still trapped in the cell I’d built for her, and I was the only one who had the ability to let her out. Didn’t she realize that when she came up with her cunning plan to kill me? Or was she so desperate to get rid of me that she didn’t even care if it cost her own life too?

I let out another guttural groan as I tried to move, only to be met with another burst of agonizing pain. The forest around me seemed to mock me with its responding silence, a cruel reminder of my isolation.

Christ… Rose.

She was just as isolated as me. In fact, she was worse off. If I stayed here, I’d bleed out soon. A painful but relatively quickdeath. Rose, however… she would slowly starve in the cell; a torturously slow death.

“Fuck!”

A new wave of desperation surged through me, mingling with the fury and betrayal. The thought of Rose dying in that cell, alone and starving, tore at my heart with jagged teeth and claws. Sure, she’d tried to kill me, but I couldn’t bear the idea of her suffering the same fate. I had to get back to her somehow. Had to save her from herself.

My girl.

My beautiful, wicked girl.

I gritted my teeth, trying to pull myself upward. The pain was overwhelming, sending shockwaves of agony through my body with every movement, but I forced myself to focus, to push through the pain. With every ounce of strength I had left, I slowly pulled myself off the sharpened stick. Each movement was pure torture, but I couldn’t afford to stop.

When it was finally out of me, I gave myself a few seconds to recover, knowing it was only the first step. Now that I was no longer pinned to the bottom of the pit, I had to inch my way out of it.

My breaths came in ragged gasps, vision blurring as I pulled myself to the edge and began to climb. I could feel my strength waning, the blood loss making me lightheaded, but giving up wasn’t an option. I had to get back to Rose. Had to make sure she was all right.

After what felt like an eternity, I reached the lip of the pit. Using the last reserves of my strength, I hauled myself over the edge and collapsed on the ground. Pain still wracked my body, but I was free.

I lay there on my back, panting as I stared up at the sky. I could feel myself weakening, drifting away. Maybe deathwouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would even be peaceful out here in the wilderness, once the pain had faded.

I let my eyelids slowly shutter, drawing another ragged breath. Then I snapped my eyes open again. “Rose… need to…”

I couldn’t grind out any more words, but Rose’s name alone provided enough of a spark inside me to force me up to my knees. Clenching my jaw, I pressed one hand over the still-gushing wound on my chest in an attempt to stem the blood loss. Then, with my free hand, I leaned over to pick up a long stick. I could use it to test the ground as I walked, in case there were any more traps in the area.

Once I was finally ready, I slowly stumbled back across the clearing. I found the narrow trail and made my way back to the marked tree, and then I turned onto the main path and trudged back toward the village, eyelids feeling heavier with each step I took.

A villager appeared in my swimming vision. A familiar face. Anaïs.

“Mr. Thorne!” she cried, hurrying over. “What happened to you?”

“Pit,” was all I managed to croak before I keeled over, knees buckling.

“Help us!” Anaïs screamed, grabbing my jacket to slow my fall. “Someone get the healers! Now!”

I blinked as I stared up at the sky again. More concerned faces appeared, and the ground around me seemed to pulse from the stampeding footsteps.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“I don’t know!” Anaïs said. “I found him like this. He said something, but I couldn’t quite make it out. It might have been ‘hit’. Perhaps he’s been shot by an outsider.”

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