Chapter Eight
“HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP US!”
Tears track down my cheeks, smearing my makeup into rivulets. I don’t move to brush them away. My hands are on Linus’ chest, shaking him.
“WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP!”
I leave bloody handprints on his white tuxedo shirt.
His wheezing grows fainter.
His eyes are going glassy.
The sight of him lying there — slack-jawed, vacant — spurs a scream from the depths of my soul. It rings out in the Great Hall, a piercing wail of distress that—
“Emilia!”
I thrash, still half-caught up in the dream, and feel my fist make contact with something hard.
“Ow! Fuck!”
My shrieks continue as the images play out before my eyes. Blood and death and horror.
“Emilia,wake up!” the gruff voice orders. Strong hands encircle my wrists, restraining my flailing limbs from doing any more damage. Half-asleep, I vaguely register my body being repositioned against something solid.
“Dammit Emilia.” There’s a break in his voice as it drops low. “You’re scaring me, love. Wake up.”
A whimper of distress catches in my throat as I finally come to. My heart is hammering against my ribs like a wild creature desperate for escape from its cage. My skin is flushed and sweaty, my breaths coming too fast to properly fill my lungs. There are two arms wrapped around me. With a muffled gasp, I realize I’m in Carter’s lap, my back pressed tight to his broad chest.
“Carter?” I sound like a lost little girl — a shell of my normal self.
“Shhh,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I go limp, all the tension draining out of me in a rush. There are tears trickling down my cheeks, falling against my chest. When I lift my hand to wipe them away, I find my wrists still manacled in Carter’s strong grip.
He releases me instantly, hands falling to the bedspread. “You were thrashing. I thought you were going to hurt yourself…”
“Thank you,” I whisper, brushing my face with shaking fingers. “Again.”
He doesn’t respond.
I still haven’t moved off his lap. I know I should, but I haven’t quite found the strength yet. I’m exhausted from the night terror — emotionally, physically. And it feels so good to have his arms around me. To soak up his heat and his strength until the fresh horror churning through my mind has faded into vapor.
My whisper is barely audible. “I thought you were going to let me scream, the next time.”
Carter pauses for a long beat. “So did I.”
I don’t thank him for changing his mind, nor does he explain his reasons for doing so. Before I can talk myself out of it, I let my head fall back against the crook of his shoulder. My right hand lands flat on his chest, just above his heart. I can feel it thundering beneath my palm, a match for my own racing pulse. My eyes close as I attempt to calm my ragged breaths into something resembling a normal pace.
I might as well be lying against a statue, Carter is so still behind me. A man chiseled out of marble and steely resolve. I can feel the tension thrumming through every muscle in his body even as my own relaxes, sapped of all strength.
I’m almost certain he’s going to push me away. Leave me in the dark to fight off my demons alone. But then… after what feels like an eternity…. with a heavy sigh that rattles his whole chest, he sets one large hand on the crown of my head. I’m stunned when he begins to pet my hair, just like Mom used to do to comfort me as a child whenever I was sick or scared.
It’s almost funny — we haven’t spoken in weeks. In fact, I’m pretty certain he hates me for everything that’s happened between us. For all the words left unsaid, all the apologies never voiced. But with each rhythmic stroke of his hand, I feel a bit better.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. Long enough for my breaths to slow. Long enough for my shakes to stop. Long enough for what little strength I have left to drain from my limbs.
The strain of the previous day has officially caught up with me — the speech I gave, the protesters in the street, the sight of my former best friend’s face in their ranks… I am hollowed out. Empty as a drum, with no will left to struggle against my own painful reality, the beat of blood in my veins faint and faltering.