Bound by broken pieces
But he was bleeding.
I could feel it, warm and slick against my hand where it pressed to his side, and panic surged, sharp and unmanageable, but he did not slow, did not falter, dragging us toward what looked like a ravine ahead, narrow and steep, the ground crumbling beneath our feet.
“There is no exit,” I said, dread flooding me.
“There is,” he replied. “But you will not like it.”
Before I could ask, the ground gave way.
We fell.
Hot Chapters