Page 176 of Scavenger's Oath
“No… no, Ivy,” I sob, heart seizing in my chest. “Stay with me. You’re okay. We’ve got you. Please… baby, please.”
Her skin’s ice-cold against mine, but her breath fans weakly against my neck—the only proof she’s still here.
Zane drops to his haunches next to us. He brushes the hair from her face with one bloodstained hand, jaw tight with griefand regret. His eyes flick to me. “We should’ve been faster,” he mutters.
Phoenix buries his head in his hands. “We failed her.”
“No,” I croak, pulling her tighter into my arms. “We came.”
Even as Ivy’s pulse flutters against my palm, it doesn’t feel like a victory. It feels like ashes.
I press my forehead to hers, my knuckles aching to break more bones.
But there’s no one left to kill. All that’s left is an oath solidifying in my blood.
I’ll never let anythinghurt her again.
Chapter 58
Phoenix
The station door hits the wall with a crunch. But I don’t slow down. My heart hammers in my chest like a piston.
Myles rushes past, clutching Ivy to his chest like he’s holding a corpse.
Zane’s been colder than ever. Since she was taken, he’s shut himself down and unleashed the beast.
Only Ivy will bring him out of it. But she’s still unconscious.
She stirred a little on the drive back, but she was clearly delirious. Kept apologising to us in breathy whispers as if we weren’t really there. Asking us to forgive her. For what had been donetoher! As if it’s her fault.
Every word was like driving a red-hot blade through my gut.
While I drove, Zane climbed in the back and dressed Myles’s gunshot wound as he clung to Ivy, refusing to let go.
About halfway, the truck started making ominous grinding noises. But I pushed it to keep going, because Ivy wouldn’t have made it if we had to trek on foot. Now it needs major repairs.
Now that we’re inside, the three of us move in sync without speaking, barely breathing.
It’s Gemma all over again.
Only this time, I wasn’t too late. I was right on time towitness the horror first-hand.
But I still wasn’t early enough to save Ivy.
When we get her onto the table in the weapons room, my knees give out. I can’t look at her face. I can’t look at her body, the battered, bleeding form of my sweet, innocent angel.
The composed leader I thought I was, crumbling to the floor as all my priorities shift. The only thing I truly need, hanging onto life by a thread.
Zane’s already moving for the first aid supplies, steady as he rifles through the cabinets. As if the urgency calms him.
Myles hovers close, shaking like a leaf. He keeps reaching out to touch her, then pulls back, as if he doesn’t know how to help. “She’s burning up,” he chokes. “Zane, her back. What the fuck do we do about her back?”
“We clean it,” Zane answers, voice tight. “We dress it. Keep her warm. She’s in shock, deeply dissociated, but she’ll come back.”
I can’t stop seeing her hanging there.
“She was—” I rasp, the words catching in my throat as I press the heels of my palms into my stinging eyes. “Hanging from her fucking arms. Her feet weren’t even touching the ground. She was barely conscious and that fucking bastard, he—and we—”
