Page 39 of Even Angels fall
Here goes nothing.
In one move, I turn my hand so that my fingers are pointing up, tighten my core, raise my knees, and turn my entire body in the direction of my pinned hand.
I grab the dagger as fast as I can and push myself away from the wall with both feet.
Fuck, that hurts like hell.
I’m panting, but I don’t take the time to look at the mess I made—well, truly, it’s Elhyor’s mess—and remove my tank top.
I need to stop the bleeding in my hand, and even if I sweat under the sun earlier, I’ve got nothing cleaner with me now.
My heart is pumping so fast with the adrenaline that blood is gushing out of my palm.
I wrap my hand with my top. As long as I can make it stop bleeding, it should heal.
Not as fast as that damn dragon, not even as fast as any shifter, since I can’t shift, but it’ll heal.
Well, it’ll heal the way the hand stays. I just have to hope that no bone needs to be reset or that, if there are any broken bits, they’re still where they’re supposed to be.
I wouldn’t have to think about that part if only I could shift.
But since that first time, I’ve never shifted again, and I don’t even think I would know how to do it now.
Fuck.
I need to go.
Pick my stuff up and get the hell away from here.
Maybe find a doctor, too.
23
Elhyor
It’s been twenty minutes since I pinned her to that cross, and I’m already getting antsy.
There’s no reason I should be—she tried to kill me after all—but I can’t control it.
My instincts—fuck you, dragon side—are begging me to go to her and make sure she’s alright.
Why do I fucking care if she’s alright? I should care about the fact that she jumped from that freaking corridor without a care if she would survive the fall or the aftermath of that kind of attack.
She was lucky that everyone was still out training or something worse than being pinned to that cross could have happened to her.
I sit at my desk, rubbing at my chest.
She looked desperate. Broken.
Why the fuck am I trying to find excuses for her behavior?
I should be focusing on the fact that she tried to kill me. I should be focused on the fact she could have very well succeeded without that little anatomy change all dragons have.
She shouldn’t be pinned to the wall but locked up in a cell. Except we don’t have any cells at Notre Dame.
It’s a church, a sanctuary, a library, and a treasure trove, so I have people to defend it, but I don’t have any freaking cells.
I click on my holo on the desk and call Brice.
