Rage and Ruin | 2

6 | 3

D E L P H I N I U M

      I wasn't sure whether it was Jaxon's blood-covered form, Hundsen's continued slights against Jake, or simply because of everything that had happened in the last two days, but then and there, I lost every ounce of control.

      The entire roof caved in. I had no way of knowing if we were in the top story of a building or the bottom, but it didn't matter. I'd bring down the entire building if I had to.

It came crashing down around us, forming a barrier between the three of us and Hundsen's small army of soldiers. The holes in the ceiling revealed another level above us, another layer of ammunition I could send toward Hundsen's men if they were able to break through the walls I'd already created.

"I'll help him," I nodded toward Jaxon, not wanting to look at him in this state for too long. "You should find us a way out of here."

I didn't even wait around to see if Jake did what I asked. Dropping down toward Jaxon, I frantically inspected the damage Hundsen had done. I'd seen countless near-fatal injuries in my time as an assassin, but this was gory and horrifying to look at. It was one thing to slice through limbs of my enemies, but it was another to know it had happened to one of my closest friends.

First, I checked if he was breathing. Holding my hand over his mouth, I searched for even the barest of breaths. At first, it didn't come and I nearly screamed. But then his chest expanded slightly as he inhaled. He was still alive. His heart was beating weakly, but at least it hadn't stopped.

My next priority was getting the blood to stop flowing. I tore his shirt to shreds to use as a tourniquet and wound countless strips of fabric around the bleeding stump of his arm, nearly severed at the shoulder. Within mere seconds, the first round of bandages had become red so I tied more and more. It needed to stop or he'd bleed and bleed until he was dead. He couldn't die. I wouldn't let him die.

      Jaxon's blood coated my hands. I didn't stop bandaging. His breathing might have been ragged, but at least it was still coming. There was still hope.

      I felt both hot and cold at the same time, my movements desperate and shaky. I was no medic; I only knew what I'd learned from tending to my own injuries. But I had to save him. If I didn't...

      I wiped the sweat off my brow with the back of my hand and blinked a few times. Everything was red. So red.

Finally, the bandages didn't stain immediately. The pressure was enough to cut off his cut artery. I let out a shaky sigh of relief. But he wasn't out of danger yet.

His head on my lap, I lightly slapped him. "Jaxon, wake up. You need to stay awake." His eyes didn't flutter. "Please...please wake up. You can't leave. Don't leave me."

And then suddenly I was barely sixteen again, watching as Imperium took my family away from me. I wasn't holding Jaxon, I was holding my mother's broken body, squeezing my father's limp hand, feeling the bite of his cold metal wedding ring on my fingers. Trying to wake them up and knowing they wouldn't. Screaming my throat raw for them and not getting any response. I was still on the floor, half sobbing-half yelling for my family not to leave me when Orion's men dragged me out of the house again. I'd never forget how the carpets were stained rust-red, how glassy their eyes were as they stared up at me. I saw them in my dreams every night, asking me why I'd done this to them.

"J-Jaxon," I called to him desperately, feeling like I might break. I fought the tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. "Please..."

Under his eyelids, his eyes moved. Then he blinked groggily a few times, looking like he'd just risen from the dead. "Delphi..." His eyes were only half-open and threatening to roll back as he stared up at me.