Page 177 of Scavenger's Oath
“Do you really want to talk about it now?” Zane barks. “She needs us. Help me.”
He’s right. I need to lock my emotions down. They can’t get in the way of my focus now.
Forcing myself to move, I grab a clean rag and bottle of alcohol, hands trembling.
But Gemma’s apartment flashes behind my eyes. Her cold flesh as I carried her body down twelve flights of stairs just to feel like I’d done something.
Now Ivy lies in front of me, fever scorching my palms, eyesclosed, breaths shallow, but she still flinches when I touch her. She groans when I lift her arms, cleaning the grime and blood from her once unblemished skin.
I can feel her pain bleeding into my own. As if her heart pumps mine. Her breaths fill my lungs. And if it all stops… I stop too.
She’s still breathing, but it’s so much worse.
Because buried underneath all the rage and guilt is something I don’t want to name. A grief so potent it gnaws at my spine. After years of meticulous control, I thought I was stronger than this.
Myles won’t stop whispering her name. Crouched by her head, his face is gaunt and drained of colour. Constantly mumbling things like‘you’re safe now’,‘we’ve got you’. As if words will make up for what we didn’t do.
My hands hover over her thighs, bile clawing up my throat as I see the smear between them. Gritting my teeth, I wipe it away and pray the image won’t haunt me.
“She tried to fight him,” Myles mutters, shellshocked. “I saw the scratches on his face… the bite. She—” His voice cracks, rising an octave. “He whipped her, Phoenix. Like she was a slave. As if her life didn’t matter.”
“Shewasa slave to them,” Zane grinds out.
My throat tightens. I don’t want to think about it. The reality that was Ivy’s life before she found us.
“Why do you think she never tried to escape us? Even with all the shit we put her through,” Zane snaps.
Myles flinches.
My gut churns.
Because the truth is, we never gave her a reason to trust us. We locked her up, manipulated and lied to her. We treated her like a prisoner who had to earn the right to even be in thatcage.
Now she’s lying here. Body carved open, because we didn’t protect her well enough. Our hearts hanging in the balance of her fragile hands, the weight of them draining her strength.
If she wakes, will she see me as a saviour or another monster? Or worse—the man who wasn’t fast enough?
“I can’t do this.” My voice wobbles, nose burning as a painful lump in my throat chokes me. “I can’t lose her. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”
Zane shoves a pack of gauze into my chest. “Then help me keep her alive,” he says, voice unwavering, calm in the storm, as always.
But I feel as if I’m being thrown around by the storm.
I need something practical to focus on, and he knows it.
The old habits claw back up. Assessment, action, command. She needs me to be steady right now, even if it’s just an act.
We need to get her to the ranch. Where wide open spaces and cozy clean sheets wait. I can already picture it. Her bare feet in the grass, baby asleep against her chest, sunlight in her hair. Safe. Whole.
Ivy can’t travel like this though. She needs to heal.
As we clean her wounds, Myles washes the dirt off her feet and legs, muttering about her precious skin. Zane’s movements are precise, methodical, but I can see the tension in his jaw every time she whimpers.
The lashes run across her back in ragged, swollen lines. Some broke the dermis, others bruised down to the bone. I can’t tell which ones hurt her more but even in her state, her muscles jump at our touch.
The tang of disinfectant burns my throat, but it’s better than the coppery smell of blood. I’m still shaking so hard thebottle rattles against the table.
She groans when I press gauze to the worst of it, and I freeze, my heart clenching as I slowly pull back.
