Blaze
A fierce, pulsing heat radiates from my abdomen, each heartbeat pounding through the stitches with a relentless ache. My head feels stuffed with cotton, like someone hollowed it out and left the rest to fog. My mouth’s bone-dry, and my tongue scrapes against my teeth, rough as sandpaper.
I groan, forcing my eyes open, though they feel weighed down, reluctant to cooperate. Rubbing them does little to clear the haze. The dull throb in my skull pales next to the fiery, pulling pain in my abdomen, sharp and hot, clawing with every breath. My hand drifts down, fingers grazing over taut, swollen skin, and I find the stitches, a raw line tracing the damage Nico left behind.
My eyes snap open, memories flooding back in a rush that only deepens the throbbing in my skull. The first thing I
