𝐂𝐘𝐑𝐔𝐒
She wiped at her tears, trying to compose herself, but she tenderly pulled away from my hand, hers shaking. "I lied…" she stuttered. "About everything." She repeated it, her voice a fragile thread, but I knew she needed the medics before she needed a confession.
"I understand. Just let me take you home." I began to rise, ready to tear open another portal, but she pulled at my cloak with desperate strength.
"I don't want to live, Cyrus."
"Don't say rubbish like that," I snapped. I could have sworn I was close to breaking from the sheer frustration and my own rising anxiety at how much damage had been done to her—again.
"I want to die," she whispered, her words devolving into a ragged wheeze.
"Not on my watch," I started to say, but she pulled herself up with a strength that shouldn't have been possible given her broken fingers and the wolfsbane still poisoning her system. She pressed her lips to mine.
I recoiled.
