Page 15 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

So thirsty.

God, so thirsty.

Digging. Clawing. Fighting.

Have to get out.

Have to live.

Please.

Please.

Let me live?—

"DANTE!"

“*Ty so mnoy?*"

Reality snaps back into focus.

Kieran's face inches from mine, grey eyes sharp with concern beneath furrowed brows. He's gripping my shoulders, and I realize I'm shaking.

I want to tell him to fuck off, to stop looking at me like I'm about to shatter. But my hands are trembling, and the phantom taste of dirt fills my mouth.

"I'm here," I manage, the words rough in my throat. "Just... spiraling."

Kieran's grip on my shoulders loosens, but he doesn't step back. "You looked like you were back there," he says quietly. "Had to be an asshole to snap you out of it."

A weak laugh escapes me.

"Mission accomplished,mudak."

He smirks at the insult, but the worry doesn't leave his eyes. We both know what these episodes mean.

How dangerous they can be in our line of work.

The day I lost my hearing plays on repeat in my nightmares. A routine mission gone wrong. Intel failure. We walked right into a trap.

The first bomb took out our exit route.

The second collapsed the building around us.

The third...

The third is the one I don't remember. Just darkness. Pressure. The desperate need to breathe as tons of concrete and earth pressed down.

They say I was under for three days.

Three days of darkness.

Three days of thirst.

Three days of clawing my way toward a surface I couldn't see.

When they finally dug me out, the right side of my world had gone silent. Small price to pay for survival, the doctors said.

But they don't understand.

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