Page 57 of Insatiable

We burst in, the door swinging wide as we enter. Dade is hunched over Tate, who is barely conscious; her limp body sprawled on the bed. The sight of her sends a prickle of hatred through me, sharp and instinctive. My mind flashes to Tomas, to the unfairness of it all—why him and not her?

But the thought is fleeting, disappearing as quickly as it comes. She’s done nothing wrong. She doesn’t deserve my anger. I know that. Still, my reaction to her is visceral, something I can’t explain. It knots in my gut, a twisted mix of jealousy and resentment I don’t even fully understand. But it’s not helping now. She needs help, not my bitterness.

I force myself to look at her as she really is—not as a symbol of everything I’ve lost, but as a person hanging on by a thread.Her face is pale, her breathing shallow. Dade is frantic, his hands trembling as he hovers over her, unsure of what to do next.

Seconds later, Ro is at my side, a glass of water in hand, procured from Dade’s bathroom. She moves swiftly, her urgency palpable.

“Dade, help me get her into a sitting position,” Rowena orders, her voice sharp with tension. The three of us work together, lifting Tate until she’s sitting upright, but her head lolls to the side, her eyes barely open, flickering like a dying candle.

“Drink,” Rowena urges, pressing the glass to Tate’s lips. She manages a few tentative sips, but then her eyes close completely, her body sagging against me. I glance down at my shirt—it’s already soaked through with blood, the crimson staining Tate’s legs and Dade’s bed sheets.

“She needs to go to the hospital wing,” I say, my voice tight, barely concealing the panic clawing at my throat.

Dade finally looks up, his face drawn and grim. “And she will. The Games leaders will be here in seconds, but I needed to talk to you two first before they get here.”

“Wanna start with telling us why you didn’t get Quinn out of there? She looked to be in a worse state than Tate!” The words spill out harsher than I intend, laced with bitterness and frustration.

Dade doesn’t flinch. He’s used to this, I realize. He’s seen worse. Felt worse. We’re all frayed at the edges, barely holding it together.

“Quinn was barely awake when I went in,” Dade says, his voice low, rough with exhaustion. “But she was strong enough to be adamant that I bring Tate back. She wouldn’t let me near her.”

His face is as impassive as ever, but I can feel the despair radiating off him in waves. It’s dark, oppressive, suffocating. This must be what Quinn feels when she’s near him, that heavysense of doom. I don’t know how she stands it—being near him like this is unbearable.

“I think I know,” Rowena says. “Quick. Help me block the doors!” She runs to the dresser and starts pushing it to the front door before Dade presses a hand to her. “You’re pregnant. Sit. I’ll do this.”

He swiftly moves the dress to block the front doorway and then does the same to the back door, using the side table. It won’t hold for long.

“If one more person dies in the labyrinth, Quinn will go through to the next circle,” Ro says.

Dade and I stare at her. “We know.”

“Don’t you remember what Felix looked like at the end of the last circle? His head was so disfigured he had to wear a mask to Noémi’s party, but the very next morning he looked normal.” She sighs when we don’t get it straight away. “We heal quickly in Hell anyway, but there’s something about moving between circles that makes us back to normal overnight. Quinn knew if you brought her out, she’d spend a week or more in the hospital wing and lose her chance to get to Jenny. Dade. She’s going to be okay. She’s going to survive.”

Dade’s face tightens, his eyes shadowed with doubt. “If someone dies before she does,” he mutters, his voice raw.

As though summoned by his words, all of our Hell Cells beep at once. My heart lurches in my chest as I pull mine out, dreading what I might see. The notification is stark and brutal—the announcement of the last death in the labyrinth. My breath catches, and for a moment, everything freezes. But then I see the name, and my heart squeezes with relief. It’s Tate. She’s not dead. I can plainly see her still breathing on the bed, but I guess they’ve chosen her as the last contestant out.

The feeling is bittersweet, a heavy mix of relief and sorrow. I’m about to say something when a violent banging erupts against the front door.

“Open this fucking door!” Anthura’s voice screams through the wood, filled with fury. The lock clicks ominously, no doubt thanks to her Hell Cell, which can unlock any door. But the dresser buys us a little time—it’ll take her at least a minute or two to push past it.

I rush to the door, throwing my weight against the dresser, my back pressed hard against the wood as I push with everything I have. On the other side, Anthura shoves against it, the force of her blows shaking the entire frame. My arms strain, the muscles burning as I hold the dresser in place.

“What now?” I whisper in anguish, the words barely escaping me.

“Let her in,” Rowena says, her voice calm.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You just asked us to block the doors.”

“Yes I did, but then I realized that Tate is the key to this and having her bleed out on the bed isn’t going to help.

“Key to what? If Anthura gets in here, Dade will be captured and you know what Anthura is capable of. He’s already on his last chance with her after everything that happened in the last circle.” I shouldn’t care about Dade as much as I do, but he’s the love of Quinn’s life and it would kill her to know we were just giving him up.

Rowena looks between me and Dade. I can almost see the cogs whirring in her mind. “Dade. You want to make a run for it? Fly out the back door?”

Dade shakes his head. “No. There is only one way out of this tower and I’ve yet to get to it. Flying away now will only prolong the time until they capture me. Move out of the way, Juliette.”

I don’t move. Anthura is spitting feathers behind me. She’s out for blood after her stupid trial was ruined, first by a rogue murderer and then by Dade sweeping in and stealing one of the contestants away.

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