Page 133 of Upon Buried Embers
“R… Rohan.” My eyes snap up at the slurred words, and dazed, green eyes land on me.
“Elf.” My tone is guttural, rough, and I clear it. “I’m here.”
“Hmm.” Her eyes blink closed before slowly opening again, her fever still taking hold of her.
“I need you to answer me something, okay?”
“H…hmm,” she mumbles, blinking lazily, barely with it.
I take a breath, trying to get the words out.
“Tell me where the bruises came from.”
“From?”
“Yes.”
Her head lolls to the side. “Fell… over.”
“Over what?”
Her brows dip. “....alwaysfallingover.”
My stomach turns, and I remember back to when she told me she fell over a bucket, or hit the well and ended up with a cut on her forehead.
But these bruises… you don’t get them from falling over, you get them from someone hurting you.
Someone has been… hurting her.
“Tell me who hurt you?” I demand, barely able to scrape the words from my throat.
“Always… hurting.”
My hands shake with her words.
“Elf.” Her eyes close, and her breathing deepens with sleep.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck.
My head falls forward, hands clenching on my knees as they tremble and I close my eyes as I feel myself slipping into a place of no return. Into a place I can’t go right now because she needs me.
But as I blink my eyes open, locking with the purple bruises on her body, dreading to think of the ones still hidden.
I’m already out the door, nearly tearing the fucking thing off of its hinges.
Thirty Three
Elf
Sleep slowly releases me as warmth touches my face. Liquid hits my tongue next, soft breaths against my skin follow, and I automatically swallow, then I cough.
“Easy, steady.” I swallow again, a palm rubbing at my chest until my cough resides.
My throat feels like glass, and my head feels stuffy, but I slowly peel my eyes open.
My vision is blurry at first, but as it clears, I’m pinned by dark eyes that I didn’t expect to see again.
