I screamed as the bones in my hand were yanked from the skin. Then, the pain in my left hand vanished. I blinked a few times to see Damien standing in front of me. His body was tensed to pounce. The ground shook, casting him off balance. I grimaced as I felt golden energy flow into my right hand. Why was Damien here? Had he come to save me?

The ground shook again, and Damien fell back. He lurched up and reached for my other hand to tear away the octopus that was trying to kill me. Before he reached me, blood burst through his chest.

He fell to his knees and collapsed, eyes on me. Pain rolled through me again and I gasped for air, fighting hard against my bonds. I had failed. I had gotten Damien captured, too. Why did he try to rescue me?

Sam walked in and two other Eyeless grabbed him and dragged him backward. I closed my eyes and heard footsteps next to me, examining what remained of the left octopus. Sam grabbed my chin and forced my head up. I blinked and stared at him. He smiled and removed the octopus from my right hand.

Relief flushed over me. I was done? That was it, right? I tried to articulate the words, but nothing came out. I strained weakly against the bonds, eager to be gone.

"Oh, we're not done. We just needed to adjust. Don't worry. Only two hours left," he said. He set the octopus on the pedestal. Then, he whipped around to me and tore my shirt open. I gasped as he grabbed the octopus again. "This will hurt far more," he promised. "Thank your friend for that," he said. With that, he stuck the octopus onto the center of my chest. For a second, the creature snuggled, unsure where to extend on the flat surface. Then, a thousand needles shoved themselves into my chest and I screamed into the eternity of pain.

I don't know when two hours passed. At some point the pain stopped. Yet, no one came to let me go and move me over. Maybe I was empty and no longer any use. I would stay here until my death.

I heard a loud bang outside and winced.

Then, the door swung open violently and warm black eyes met mine. Eyes. Not holes.

There was something different about his eyes. Just looking at them made me feel stronger. He rushed forward and I closed my eyes, tears leaking down.

His fingers were tender. His eyes peered into mine with concern and flicked over my face, trying to evaluate where I hurt. Eventually, they crawled down to my chest and he took a sharp breath.

"Oh, no," he muttered and gently peeled the creature off my chest. The creature had shriveled and fell off like an old sponge covered in red. Was it bleeding? "Hold on, precious," he said softly.

He popped a claw and cut off my bonds, starting at my neck and making his way down to my ankles. I watched his precise, trained movements ripple through the muscles on his back. He was dressed in all black. With his curling black hair and dark eyes, he almost seemed like he could vanish into the darkness any moment.

"Stay with me here," he urged, eyes back on my own. He picked up one hand at a time and quickly set them in my lap. Then, he buried his arm under my knees and another behind my back, easily picking me up and cradling me against his chest. "I'm getting you out of here," he said. "Just hold on to me, okay?"

I nodded and closed my eyes. I didn't know how he wanted me to hold on; I don't think I could have held onto anything if my life depended on it.

His chest was firm, yet my head rested against it comfortably. We stepped outside and I shrunk away from the overpowering sun. He stepped confidently over to a truck parked in the middle of the street. "I need to set you down for a bit," he said quietly and lay me down on the sand. He unlocked the truck and opened the door. Then, his strong hands were back on my body, lifting me into the passenger seat. I went to put on my seatbelt, but he gently covered my hand with his own and guided it back down. "You need to rest," he scolded gently, reaching over me, and pulling the belt over me. He clicked it into place. "Stay as still as you can. You're bleeding pretty badly."

I wanted to shake my head and tell him I was fine. But then I felt the liquid dripping and saw that my chest was bleeding where the octopus had been sucking me dry. That would explain why I was so lightheaded.

The man ensured my legs were inside the truck and shut the door carefully. A few seconds later, I heard him open the driver's door.

I realized his hands were shaking as he turned on the ignition. His eyes were furiously scanning the area. He saw me watching him and he gave me a tense smile. "Hi," he said. He threw the car into drive, and we jerked forward. He picked up speed and I heard the engine shift through multiple gears as his hands flit expertly over the gear shift.

I closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep.

"I feel like I should tell you to stay awake, but honestly, I have no idea if that's right," he mumbled. "You know?" he let out a puff of air that was likely supposed to be a laugh, "I was really hoping we were just going to walk out of there. Not drive for our lives from a starving, magical beast that's been feasting on your flesh for a week."

I didn't know if he knew I was still awake. Who knows? Maybe he always spoke nonsense.

He swore quietly. "I think I just spoke more to you than I ever have in my life. I'm usually in the shadows," he muttered. We crested the major dune and started heading down. He extended his hand, protecting me from falling forward as if the seat belt was not intended to do that.

"I've been told I have that effect," I mumbled. I heard another huff that I assumed was amusement.

Then, a sharp pain jabbed my chest and I gasped. He glanced over and swore again. I felt the car slow to a stop and the man exit the truck. My body locked up, trying to shy away from whatever was stabbing my chest. My door flung open, and the dark-eyed man unlocked my seat belt and pulled me out, laying me flat on the sand. I lay there in the shade of the truck. He pulled my shirt back, and I glanced down to my chest.

The dark-eyed man firmly grasped my shoulders as I tried to sit up. "Lay back. Stay still. Leviathan was poisoning you, probably to keep you docile. Your body is trying to reject the poison, but it's too close to your heart.

My eyes widened in fear, and I tried to sit up again.

"Stay. Still," he commanded harshly and pushed me back down. What did it matter? He must have read it in my eyes because he narrowed his eyes and flashed golden magic around me. He pulled his hands back and I realized he had placed a heavy, golden blanket across my shoulders, keeping me from sitting up.

The pain in my chest spiked. My heart began to thud violently, and I cried out.

He cursed and lifted a single finger. He mumbled soft words. His voice trailed in golden slivers and swirled around his finger. After a few seconds, it looked like he had golden cotton candy on his finger. He then pushed down and thrust his finger into the gaping wound in my chest.

I thrashed against the blanket only to realize that I didn't feel anything from his poking. Maybe he hadn't touched me yet. Surely shoving a finger into an open wound hurt, right?

I looked at him and realized his black eyes had turned into a deep gold. His eyes flickered from his task to meet mine for a flash. As he did, I felt something small and ancient in me stir. It was an unabating affection, a deep desire to see him thrive. I didn't even know who he was.

Finally, he fell back, and I tried to sit up. I wanted to comfort him, make sure he was okay. But, the heavy blanket stopped me. Finally, that faded, and he sat up, panting and looking at me curiously.

Surely not? A sweet voice echoed in my head skeptically. I blinked and pulled myself up onto a sitting position. Instead of pushing me back down, he grabbed my elbow and helped me. I groaned with effort and finally made it into a sitting position while he caught his breath. His eyes were dancing across my face.

Did you just talk to me? In my head? I thought back. I heard another exhale that I was understanding was laughter.

Did you just talk in my head, precious?

My head was spinning. What did that mean? I glanced down at my chest and saw the imperial symbol burned onto my skin. The wound underneath was healed. That was the king's symbol, and this man was clearly not the wizened king.

"My name is Elijah," he said, extending an upward hand. Mesmerized by him, I extended a hand. He gently took the heavily bruised and clamped hand and gently kissed it. My heart nearly exploded. His touch gave me an inch of energy, a breath of hope.

"What did you do to me?" I asked. Why was I mesmerized? I already had a mate.

He pulled himself up into a standing position and glanced down. "It's complicated. I've never successfully completed that spell. It takes a lot, unsurprisingly. To Bring a Body Back From the Brink. My uncle would have killed me if he knew I used it. Well, he would have to get in line. Maybe not if he heard who I used it on," he mused.

I blinked again. "Thank you," I managed.

He leaned down and picked me up again, taking a deep breath. He was amused but was trying to hide it. He set me down in the seat again and buckled me up. When he climbed into the truck he glanced down at my hands. I pulled them away, trying to hide them, shame blushing over my face.

"We'll get those taken care of at the camp. They'll be back to normal soon," he promised. I nodded. "You have no idea how pleased I am to meet you."

I still felt like I could sleep for days. Yet, my head felt like it was attached to my body and the pain in my chest had entirely disappeared. I closed my eyes and nodded off to sleep.