Rain rips me from the black nothing.
It’s impossible to know how much time passes because all I’m conscious of is pain.
But at least I’m not alone.
As I drift in and out of an ocean of pain, Jeremy is always there, holding my hand, curving his body around mine, telling me to hold on, that it won’t hurt for much longer.
And even though I know painkillers and drugs don’t work on us shifters, it doesn’t stop me from begging for them anyway.
Whatever Jeremy says is swept away before I can grab onto it like a lifeline, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is he’s holding me, pressing his lips against my brow, and there’s a burning intensity in his eyes that tells me he’d kill the world if it would stop me from hurting.
I sink back into blackness. Away from the pain, which I’m relieved
