Bleeding out on a stone floor in a gilded cage because he came for me anyway.
A low, broken sound vibrates through his body and into mine.
He's shaking.
The tremors aren't from cold. They're the deep, involuntary kind that come from a body pushed past every limit it has and running on nothing but animal stubbornness. His back is a wet ruin. The chains are so tight they're cutting into his forearms through the sleeves of his shirt. Every breath comes out ragged and wet.
"You're okay," I murmur into his hair. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay?—"
"I'm not," he grinds out. "And stop—stop trying tocomfortme?—"
"Tough shit."
He makes a sound that might be a growl or might be a groan. I can't tell. It doesn't matter.
He turns his face into my stomach.
Hiding.
The movement is desperate and instinctive, his forehead pressing hard against me, and I feel his destroyed cheek and exposed teeth against my thigh even through my pants.
My heart rate spikes, but not from fear of Rex.
From the overwhelming, nauseatingterrorthat he's going to die right here with his face hidden in my lap because he thinks that's the kindest thing he can do for me.
I press my nose deeper into his hair. Keep nuzzling. Keep breathing.
"Phoenix and Raf are close," I whisper.
His body stills.
"I can feel them. Through the bond." I close my eyes and reach for those threads. The warm, solid ones, the ones that aren't flickering and fading. They're there. Bright. Getting brighter by the second. "They're coming."
Rex exhales against my stomach. A shudder runs through him that rattles the chains.
"Then we're fucked," he rasps.
I pull back an inch. "What?"
A hoarse, choked sound rips out of him. It takes me a second to realize it's a laugh.
"If it's up to Phoenix and Raf—" Another wet breath. "—we'refucked. Phoenix gets lost inparking garages. And Raf will stop to fight every guard between the front door and this room because he doesn't know how to walk past a problem."
"Rex…"
"I have to get you the fuck out of here." His arms strain against the chains. The links bite deeper and fresh blood wells around his wrists.
"Stopmoving. You're hurt. You're making it worse."
"I don't fucking care?—"
"I DO!"
The cage goes quiet.
His breathing fills the space. Harsh and labored and wet and each exhale has a rattle underneath it that makes my blood run cold.
"Rex."