Holstering his gun, Ryder stepped toward me, arms scooping me up to hoist against his body. I struggled against him, wanting to walk on my own. I didn’t like to be carried around like a damsel. Plus I would not look any weaker in front of the other ash. Ryder stared down at me for a few extended beats, his breathing deep, eyes full silver. Eventually he settled for looping an arm around my waist and letting me use him as a very muscular crutch. My ribs and head continued to protest as we stepped away from the tree. Once I was out in the open, I looked around for Jayden. Fear for my friend was pushing down all other emotions.
“He’s fine,” Ryder said, directing my gaze to where Jayden was holding his right arm. Blood seeped out from under his fingers and I could see a long, shallow gash in his shoulder.
The pair of black-haired ash were face down on the ground, hands zip-tied behind their backs, two of Ryder’s teammates, dressed in black military fatigues, standing above them, each resting a boot on their backs. Through Jayden’s constant chatter about the delicious core group of enforcers, I knew them by sight now.
One was Markus. He was Scottish, with thick red hair which he wore man-bun style, and a beard to match. Dude was pretty suave. From the small amounts I’d heard of him, his accent was quite delicious. The other was Oliver, who was Latino and hot as hell. He had that dark and mysterious thing down, and I wasn’t surprised to see my bestie Jayden giving him more than a single glance. The boy might be injured, but he wasn’t dead. If you included Ryder, we were currently surrounded by three members of the “sexy-six” – Jayden’s name for their group.
Ryder drew my attention – not that I was ever not paying attention to him – when he quickly scanned up and down my body. His expression was clinical, like he was looking for injuries. But his eyes were still all silver.
My cheeks reddened and I lowered my face a little. Together we crossed to the two ash on the ground, Ryder’s arm and heat plastered firmly to my uninjured side. When we reached the dicks on the ground, the enforcer’s hand tightened and he kept me close as he crouched near their messed-up faces. Someone had beat on them badly.
His voice was chilling. “Let this be a message to anyone else who wants to disobey the rules. You save the fighting for the culling. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the ash ground out, barely able to breathe with the other big boys standing on them.
“Okay, boss, what should we do with them?” Markus asked in that rolling brogue. Noticing my stare, he gave me a wink.
Ryder readjusted my position, taking more of my weight. How had he known I was starting to falter again?
He threw Markus a slight grin. “Throw them in the pit for a night. Let’s see how tough they really are.”
Markus and Oliver both whistled low, before reaching down to hoist the boys up by the underarms. Ryder turned to face me, his chestnut hair flickering with streaks of gold in the sunlight. Behind him, the now silent and broken douchebuckets were being led away to this mysterious “pit.”
Ryder leaned in closer. “From now on, you’re my problem. Get a lot of blood and rest tonight, then tomorrow report to the training gym first thing in the morning – and also right after lunch, and after dinner. Understood?”
Problem? I gritted back my retort. He’d quite possibly just saved my life. “Yes, sir, ash, sir.”
He heaved out a breath, before leaving me in Jayden’s care. “See you in the morning, number forty-six.”
“Leave your torture stick at home,” I reminded him.
I looked up to see Jayden smiling at me, relieved to see that his wound was pretty much closed up now. “What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.” And we walked back to the front of the Hive.
That night my dreams were the most vivid I could remember. Again with the red blood rain, with the constant thirst. But there was a new addition: Ryder and Lucas, both half-naked, both trying to teach me to fight. Or teach me something anyways. The half-naked thing was sort of distracting, even in a dream. As the dreams faded away, I awoke to see Jayden on his bed, slowly rotating his shoulder. I sat up and rubbed my eyes a few times, before reaching for my hair-tie and twisting my hair into a top knot.
“How’s your arm?” I croaked out through my scratchy morning throat.
Jayden flicked me a small smile. “I’m almost fully healed. Took a fair amount of blood. His knife sliced through something important.”
I winced at the memory and my hand went instinctively to my head. I could already tell I was a million times healthier today. Which was fantastic. Just in time for someone else to kick the crap out of me.