Page 150 of Crown of Lies

I can’t hold back. A ragged yell tears from my throat, echoing off the walls of the ransacked shop. The sound is raw, primal, filled with all the pain and fury I can’t express in words.

Ambrose’s smile only grows wider at my outcry, his eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.

45

QUINN

I’m drifting.Floating in a sea of darkness. Something’s wrong, but I can’t… I can’t remember what.

A shout pierces the fog. Urgent. Angry. I try to open my eyes, but my lids are too heavy.

Cool air hits my face. I’m moving. How? Why?

Strong arms cradle me. The scent of leather and gunpowder. Nico. He’s running, each step jostling me.

Panic rises in my chest. There’s something important. Something I need to remember. I claw at the edges of consciousness, trying to break through.

“…have to hurry…” A voice filters through. Killian?

I try to speak, to ask what’s happening, but my mouth won’t cooperate. My tongue feels thick, useless.

Darkness swallows me again. When I surface, there’s a roar of an engine. Wind whips my hair. We’re in a car?

The urgency is still there, pulsing beneath my skin. What am I forgetting? What’s so important?

I force my eyes open a crack. Blurry shapes. Lights streaking past. My head lolls against something solid. Nico’s chest.

“…almost there…” His voice rumbles through me.

I try again to speak. To warn them. About what? The thought slips away like smoke.

The car screeches to a halt. More shouting. Hands grabbing me, lifting me.

“Quinn? Can you hear me?” Killian’s face swims into focus for a moment.

I manage a groan. It’s not enough. There’s something they need to know. Something…

And the darkness claims me.

I’m drifting again, fighting against the darkness that threatens to consume me. Flashes of consciousness come and go, each one a struggle to hold on to.

“Quinn, stay with us!” Killian’s voice cuts through the fog.

I try to respond, to open my eyes, but my body won’t cooperate. The world tilts and spins around me, a kaleidoscope of blurred colors and muffled sounds.

“Gonna be okay,” Nico’s voice rumbles close to my ear. “Try to open your eyes.”

I want to tell them about the danger, about Ambrose and his men, but the words stick in my throat. My tongue feels like lead, useless and heavy in my mouth.

The darkness pulls at me, dragging me under. I fight against it, clawing my way back to consciousness. But it’s like swimming through molasses, each effort leaving me more exhausted than the last.

Voices fade in and out, urgent and panicked. I catch snippets of conversation, but they slip away before I can make sense of them.

“…need to hurry…”

“…if they come for her…”

“…can’t fucking lose her too…”

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