Page 151 of Inside the Wicked

I don’t really register what he means when I’m already jumping through the wall and racing after Lanshall. There’s no way in hell he’s getting away from this, even if I have to go down with him.

He didn’t get far into the woods, shuffling on one leg and clutching his abdomen. The moment I catch up to him I lose myself. Slamming him into a tree, I shake violently with rage, but also ... so much sadness it unexpectedly drowns me.

“Why me?” I yell in his face. “Why did you have to make me this way?”

He doesn’t respond. I don’t know if he can, or if he’s even fully conscious, as his eyes can barely stay open.

I punch him across the face, and he falls. Barrels of agony pour over me, and I brace on my thighs to fucking breathe. I can’t fuckingbreathe.

“I didn’t deserve it,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t want it, but you kept sharpening me. I was a fuckingchild, and you wanted aweapon.”

When he doesn’t speak again I kick him. Once. Twice. Then I lose count, because I can hardly see through the infuriating blurriness.

I kneel over him, gripping his coat and pulling his limp body off the ground. He groans, still holding onto the threads of his life.

“I was just a kid. You thought you saw yourself, but I will never be anything like you. I had a life, and you could have just let me fuckingbe.I loved, and you took that. I was good, and you corrupted that. I’m not your nephew. I’m your fuckingvictim.”

I break. In every way a person can be broken. But I’ve found a person who can mend what’s left of me. If I didn’t have Ana, I don’t think I’d have the strength to keep the pieces of me from shattering to the point of no redemption.

“Rhett—”

Her quiet voice is a reach toward salvation before it’s stolen from both of us.

The blast is endless yet short. I can hardly move with my consciousness struggling to hold on, but I remember her voice, my name made of her beautiful voice, and I fightharder.

The world is smoke and ash and embers. Then the treetops peek through, and I roll.I have to find Ana. I have to reach Ana.I drag myself through forest debris, trying to blink a clear visual. Pushing myself up, I find her. She’s hurt, but she’s finding the strength to push herself up too.

“I’m coming, baby.” I barely get those words out in a breath, but I’m coming to, more and more.

When a gunshot fires I think I must be in hell. Or I wish to be fucking dead, and this a horrific nightmare.

One I’ve lived before.

I’m on my feet now, knowing nothing but her. No agony. No emotions. Nothing.

Alistair falls back, his hand goes limp, but I rip the gun from him and fire into his chest, then his skull. I drop the gun the moment it’s over and crash to my knees next to Ana.

This can’t be happening. Not again. She’s pale and panicked, and I can’t let myself go back there, to when Sarah wore that look.

“Rhett?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I . . . I love you.”

“I loved you first, Ana. I promise you that. I’ll love you every day of our forever. So you can’t sleep, baby, okay?”

“I’m ... I’m trying not to.”

“Good,” I say, lifting her into my arms. My teeth grit at the pain roaring through every bone and muscle in my body. Her cries of pain mix with my sounds as I strain to my feet.

“Stay with me, Ana.”

Her eyes flutter, trying so hard to stay open.

So brave. So fucking brave.

“It’s really c-cold.”

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