Lorraine's POV
Pain has a sound.
It's not screaming. It's not sobbing. It's the absence of breath. The stuttering gasp that gets caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat as you realize your body has become your cage. That was me. Trapped.
I touched my chest, slowly, terrified of what I'd feel, and what I wouldn't. My fingertips met skin that wasn't torn open anymore, but it wasn't whole either. The wound had closed in some places, rough scar tissue forming like a rushed patch job. But it still throbbed violently underneath, numb and burning at once, as though my body wasn't sure what to do with itself. I couldn't breathe right. Every inhale felt like my ribs were cracking.
And then Kieran turned to me.
"I have to mark you."
I blinked at him. "What?"
He moved closer, his expression serious, unreadable. There was something simmering behind his eyes, something he didn't want me to see.
