Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Cora and I rushed forward. She picked up the basin, holding it under Nira’s head as Vishen poured glass after glass of water over her head until the blood was washed away enough to see the wound.
I steeled my stomach, grabbed a few rags, and pressed them hard into Nira’s side, making her shoot awake with a cry.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“’s okay,” Nira said weakly.
“Babe, I’m gonna have to shave half your head,” Vishen told her while he had her awake. I didn’t miss the soft way he touched her cheek as he told her.
Nira tried to offer him a smile, but she was too weak. “It’ll look badass,” she managed in a tiny whisper.
“Yeah, it will,” Vishen agreed. “You can put that down,” he told Cora. “Could you go into the office next door and grab some of the alcohol?”
“How bad?” Nira asked.
“Could be worse,” Vishen told her. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Did they live?” Nira asked, sounding like she was fading.
“Most of them. And you’re more of a stubborn-ass than all of them combined. And I give a fuck if something happens to you. So, I like your odds.”
“Here,” Cora said, rushing back with two different bottles of alcohol—one brown and one clear.
“Let’s have a drink,” Vishen said, lifting Nira’s head and holding up the brown liquor. Nira went ahead and chugged.
“Is that good for her?”
“It will hopefully keep her from feeling this next part too much.”
“It’s going to be that bad?” I asked.
Vishen’s gaze cut to me. “Yes. And Nira is strong. I’m going to need both of you to hold her down.”
My stomach twisted at the idea of having to hold down a woman writhing and screaming in pain. But if it meant she would survive this, I would do what I needed to do.
“Cora?” I asked, looking back at her.
She gave me a tight nod.
Vishen grabbed his razor and made short work of shearing off Nira’s gorgeous hair.
My stomach heaved as I looked at the gash down her scalp, but Cora’s face was impassive looking at the same wound.
“Alright. Hold her down as hard as you can,” Vishen said, washing his hands in the clear alcohol, then reaching for a needle and thread.
Oh, God.
I pressed down on Nira’s arm and leg as Cora did the same. Then I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore the way my stomach lurched as Nira’s body jolted and she let out a scream I was sure I’d hear in my nightmares for years to come.
“I know. I know,” Vishen said, voice tight. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry,” he continued as Nira thrashed and cried.
Tears streamed down my own face and I thanked the universe when Nira eventually went slack, unconscious from the pain.
Only then did I risk opening my eyes.
“The head wound is done,” Vishen, hands covered in blood, eyes red, said as he peeled the rags away from her side.
“Are you okay?” I asked, sniffling.
“No.”
He cleaned her side with water before reaching for the alcohol. He paused, exhaling hard, steeling his face, then poured.
Nira shrieked awake, eyes wild, pained, confused.
“You’re okay,” Vishen assured her, but he didn’t sound certain. “Halfway done.”
There was no reasoning with Nira then, though, driven half-mad with pain as Vishen threaded the needle again and started to stitch her side back together.
Only this time, there was no mercy of unconsciousness. Nira cursed and begged until all that was left were harsh, sharp breaths and a body so taut I wasn’t sure how she didn’t snap.
Vishen snipped the last stitch, exhaled hard, then leaned up, pressing his face into her neck.
“It’s over. It’s all over. You’re alright.”
Feeling like I was suddenly in the way, I released Nira—whose arm lifted heavily so her hand could rest on the back of Vishen’s neck—then climbed off the bed, taking Cora with me into the hallway. Knight was in the room, whining. Almost like he knew things were dangerous and was upset that he couldn’t help.
“He’s friendly. Until you need him not to be,” I told her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she reached out to pet the dog. “Are you?”
“No,” I admitted, leading her into my quarters, where I scrubbed at the blood on my hands, on my face, and neck.
I chugged water, offered Cora some, then stripped out of my ruined gown. I didn’t reach for another of the fancy dresses, though. Instead, I grabbed the freshly washed borrowed outfit from Nira.
I could still hear the screams, shouts, and clanking of swords from outside. If this was a war, I wanted to dress the part.
“Can I loan you a change of clothes?” I asked, seeing her filthy, torn dress.
She gave me a nod.
I fished out a nightgown, not sure if anything else I had would fit her.
Cora stripped out of her filthy gown, and I felt my stomach twist for what felt like the millionth time that night, seeing the raised, healed welts down her legs, her arms, and across her back.