Page 99 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

I may have been injured in battle before. But I’ve never had to withstand those injuries for more than a few moments before my flesh healed. To see this gnarly wound on myself is rather striking. As blood drips out of me with every movement of my chest—with every breath, really—the pain becomes even worse now that’s accompanied by the visual stimulus.

Taking a metal instrument from the box, he leans closer to me—so much so his breath fans over my cheek.

“Uhm, what are you doing?” I whisper.

“Getting the bullet out. This will hurt.”

“All right. I’m ready.”

He stares me in the eye for a moment before he nods. Redirecting his attention to my wound, he inserts the metal instrument inside my wound.

I gasp. Not only is the metal cold against my feverish skin, but it’s also painfully prodding inside my flesh.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

“Faster,” I say in between short, shallow breaths.

My hands look for something to hold on to—something to keep me grounded as my body feels about to launch itself off the bed in an attempt to escape this pain. With one hand, I grab the blanket underneath me. With the other, I grab the back of Mine’s shirt, holding him next to me.

“Easy, easy,” he whispers. “Almost there.”

“It…hurts,” I say groggily.

“There, darling. Almost there,” he continues.

The instrument prods deeper inside my wound.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Done,” Mine proclaims.

Slowly opening my eyes, I see him holding out the bullet fragment. It’s smaller than I expected. Though it’s coated in my blood, the material is golden and shiny.

“Now let’s clean the wound,” he continues. Dropping the bullet fragment on the table next to me, he then brings a clean towel that he douses in some disinfectant.

“Ouch,” I hiss when the towel makes contact with my open wound.

“How long will it take before you heal?” Mine asks as he dabs the disinfectant all over my injury.

“I think a night? That’s how long it took for my arm last time,” I mention. Then I frown. “In fact…” I trail off as I peek under the bandage on my arm. “This one’s nearly healed.”

Mine smiles then.

“Good. I don’t like to see you in pain.”

Our eyes meet, and a flush envelops my cheeks.

“Uhm… Well—” I swallow uncomfortably. Why does he have to be so nice to me just when I was getting mad at him?

He chuckles and gets to work.

While I think of something to say in return, he cuts up a small piece of gauze, dips it in iodine, and presses it to my wound. Keeping it in place, he takes the bandage and rolls it all around my torso to secure the gauze.

“How’s the pain?”

“More manageable now. Thank you.”

“Good. Let me get you something to put on.”

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