Page 68 of Bound By Darkness

He chuckled as the iron door creaked. “I’ve never experienced more pleasure than causing you pain.”

The iron door slammed shut, locking my cries inside.

Chapter 20

New Light

THALIA

Fin did not stiragainst the branches and rocks strewn across the ground.

Blood leaked from the arrow protruding from his side.

Jumping from Onyx, my feet pounded into the ground as I ran to him, my arms heaving him onto his back as his chest lazily rose and fell—unconscious.

“Keep the wound from bleeding!” Ivan yelled, twin swords in hand as he scanned the area.

My nod was lethargic as my hands pressed against the wound, blood spurting between the creases of my fingers.

A groan left Fin’s lips as I pushed harder.

“Stay here,” Ivan growled, his hands clenching both weapons tightly. “I’m going to check the area.”

“Okay.” My hands were coated in red as the metallic tang of copper filled my nostrils.

Another arrow whizzed past, striking the tree in front of me as bits of bark tumbled to the leaves below.

Whipping around, my eyes followed Ivan, a trail of black as he headed toward the direction the arrow had flung from.

Swallowing, I shuffled my body above Fin as I studied how his chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

I would not let him die here.

Another arrow pierced the ground, narrowly missing my foot in its path. The arrows flew closer, striking with accurate precision.

What was Ivan doing?

Another groan erupted from Fin, his eyes shifting back and forth under his eyelids.

“Hold on. Hold on.” I didn’t know why I repeated the phrase when no one was coming to help. We were alone… and it was on me to keep him alive.

The forest stilled, and not a bird or animal called out. The only sound came from the occasional whoosh of an arrow as it flew above us, signaling whoever was shooting them continued to gain ground quickly.

I didn’t know how to fight.

I didn’t know how to protect myself.

The stunt I’d fabricated with Ivan had been a farce, a mockery. Real fighting? I didn’t stand a chance, especially if the archer made it here.

Fin’s blood leaked through my fingers, leaving behind a sticky, coppery mess.

The bleeding wasn’t stopping from the pressure I applied. I had to slow the bleeding; otherwise, he would be dead before Ivan returned. Fumbling with the hem of my shirt, red tainted the thin fabric as I yanked.

Huffing, I grabbed a jagged stick from the foliage and poked it underneath, pushing it through the material until it tore.

I grabbed a frayed edge and yanked until the material ripped, exposing my stomach beneath. Wadding the fabric, I stuffed it beside the deeply embedded arrow, a deep groan escaping from Fin.

“Sorry,” I squeaked as I pressed harder and deeper into the wound.

---