My heart hammered so loudly I could hear it in my ears. Ramses wasn't moving. He lay on his side, groaning weakly. Is he dying?
The heir dropped me unceremoniously onto the bed and rushed to his father. While Aquasteine and Alexis finished thrashing the guards, Zayne leaned over me, eyes full of rare tenderness.
"We need to get you out of here. You're bleeding badly."
I nodded weakly. My hearing was fading, black spots swimming across my vision. Don't faint again. Please don't let Zoey wake me up with another "fuck your husbands" mission.
"Can you hear me, Ravine?" Zayne asked as he scooped me up. Fresh pain bloomed across my body. Without pressure on the wound, blood flowed freely again. I tried to lift a hand to stem it, but my arm wouldn't obey.
"Where do you think you're taking my wife?" the heir snarled, turning his attention back to us.
Zayne didn't answer. He shifted in a shimmer of gold — massive dragon form, honey-gold wings spreading wide. I felt weightless as he lifted off, carrying me out of the palace and into the sky. The wind rushed past us. I stared at the clouds below like a passenger in an airplane until the world blurred.
I woke to the sensation of being laid on a soft mattress. A woman with sleek black horns met us at the door of a dimly lit room inside a dark building. A man with similar horns and thick, intimidating brows followed.
Zayne set me down. I groaned. Fever burned through me. My head felt like it was being pounded by metal gongs.
"Take off my clothes," I mumbled. "I'm burning…"
"What the fuck, Ravine?" Zayne growled. "You're sick. You need treatment — not that."
"Not… that," I whispered. "Just… too hot."
The horned woman barked orders. "Get the Burch Wood ampoule and a syringe."
Shots? Even in the beast world?
"Don't worry," Zayne said gently, patting my head. "This will help with the pain."
"But I hate needles," I whimpered, too weak to stop the childish tantrum. "They make me swollen…"
The man approached with a dark brown ampoule and a long needle. My heart raced. Zayne gently shifted my dress, wiped my thigh with something cold, and the sharp prick came.
I cried out. Then everything went blissfully dark.
A tickling sensation on my face yanked me awake. Everything was pitch black. I slapped at my face frantically, grabbing what felt like a huge insect and squeezing with all my strength. Sand crunched under me. Cold wind bit at my skin. I curled into a ball, teeth chattering.
A light blinked on.
I jumped. Another blink — and the entire space flooded with harsh white light. I squinted against the burn.
"Hello, Ravine," a familiar voice said cheerfully. "I'm Zoey, your system manager."
A cartoonish laptop with four swivel-chair legs stood in front of me, looking ridiculously like Karen from SpongeBob.
"You're currently unconscious from the painkiller shot. As your system manager, I've noticed you've been operating in complete oblivion. Allow me to show you why you were chosen for this world."
Her screen flickered, then displayed a grainy black-and-white image that slowly sharpened.
My parents' living room. Dad's bald head buried in The National newspaper. Mom in her rocking chair, plump arms resting on the threadbare armrests, knitting. Saturday Night Live played on the TV — Mom's favorite.
Suddenly the floor beneath them cracked open. They vanished into the darkness.
I screamed until my throat burned, but no sound came out. It felt like an invisible shoe pressed down on my neck, crushing the air from my lungs.