Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 140780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140780 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 469(@300wpm)
“And if you’re wrong?” Harry asked quietly.
Roger finally looked at me. “Then the current would arc through the myocardium. It would cause tissue damage and possibly induce fatal arrhythmia.”
“If you didn’t catch that,” Harry patted my bare shoulder. “It could stop your heart. Still keen to go ahead?”
“Ehhh...” Rook piped up from her spot on the floor with Whisper. “Maybe we should wait until—”
“Do it.” I refused to look at her. “I want it destroyed.”
Roger’s shoulders slumped, the weight of my choice settling in. “We’ll only get one attempt.”
“Then get it over with.”
For a second, he looked like he’d renege on his agreement but then he sighed. “Fine. But you can’t move while we work. And fair warning...all of it will hurt.”
“I’m used to pain and you have my word I’ll be as still as a corpse.”
With another heavy sigh, the doctor went to a black bag that was already packed and waiting by the exit. Rummaging for a while, he brought a bunch of tools and dumped them on the desk beside my waist.
Harry broke away, setting up whatever was required. The sounds of metal clinking and water running were the only noise as the doctors sterilised, washed up, and slipped on gloves to begin.
Every minute, claustrophobia clawed harder.
I was so close to escape, yet so far.
So near to freedom, yet still at the mercy of death.
Whisper grumbled in Rook’s arms—his lips peeling over his fangs as my heartrate steadily increased.
Fuck, if this went wrong...
If I died in the next few minutes...
Rook buried her face into Whisper’s scruff as if using him as a box of tissues.
A punch of jealousy caught me completely unaware.
I wanted her to hold me instead.
I wanted to kiss her...just in case it was the last.
“Stay still,” Harry murmured, wrenching my attention back to him as he reached for my wrist. “We’ll do the cuffs first, then the pacemaker.”
“Fine.” Shutting everything down, I glowered at the ceiling. I ignored how my skin crawled as his fingers brushed me, tugging on the locking mechanism that I’d never been able to undo, no matter what I’d used to pry them open.
He hissed under his breath then picked up something thin and hooked from the array of torture devices beside me. With his other hand, he grabbed a small pair of forceps.
Cold metal clamped around my cuff, amplifying the sensation directly into my body.
He pressed, probed, then twisted the hook sharply into the lock.
A sharp metallic snap echoed through the room.
My entire hand flooded with heat.
“That’s one tab released.” His voice was tight and curt. “But scar tissue’s grown over the second.” Picking up a tiny scalpel, he added, “We’re out of local anaesthetic so you’re just going to have to bear with it.”
Rook sucked in a breath.
Whisper took a step forward, fighting her hold.
“It’s fine.” I shook my head at both of them. “Don’t come over here.”
Harry made a quick incision—just enough to separate whatever had fused. I hissed at the sharp sting as he dug the hook deeper, searching for the final latch.
A second, louder click.
The cuff loosened—cradling my wrist instead of biting into it.
For the first time since I was a child, air touched skin that hadn’t seen the world in decades.
Warm Ashfall blood seeped from the tiny scalpel cut, bright red and mocking.
“This is the hard part.” Sweat gleamed on Harry’s upper lip. “I need to remove the internal shunt. It will bleed. A lot. And you need to stay absolutely still so I don’t tear the vein.”
Not waiting for me to agree, he slid his fingers over my wrist, feeling for the tube’s anchor point. “I’m going to withdraw it slowly to minimise any damage.” He gave a single nod...and then pulled.
White-hot fire exploded down my forearm as the tube slid gently, excruciatingly slowly from my vein. It came free and blood surged, dark and steady.
Rook panicked. “I-Is that normal?!”
Whisper snarled as if they’d slit my throat.
“It’s okay, kitty cat,” she soothed. “Stay here. Come on. Be good. Please be good.”
Roger raced to my side, clamping a wad of gauze against the tiny hole in my wrist. “I’ll deal with the compression and stitches. You get the other one.”
Blood soaked through the gauze instantly.
He swapped the drenched handful for another, bright red splashing onto the white towel beneath.
Both Rook and Whisper shuffled closer. “Lucien—”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Stay away.”
Closing my eyes, I let spinning sickness carry me away while both doctors worked on me. I tensed as the other cuff was slowly sliced and unlocked. I held my breath as they leaned over me, putting all their weight on the matching wounds to stop them from bleeding.
I didn’t open my eyes as I felt the sharp poke of a needle—sewing up the tiny holes left behind. I didn’t make a sound as they wrapped tight bandages around both wrists, hiding the mess my arms had become and replacing silver cuffs with cotton instead of metal.