I pull my legs in more tightly. I can’t imagine stretching my legs ever again.
I suppose I won’t.
The light they shine on me is bright, but not so much that I don’t see him burst through the opening to the cave.
Even knowing he’s doomed—that I’ve doomed him—my heart lifts. I feel him. He feels like happiness.
He stalks to me. There’s this wild look in his eyes, and I think he smells all the blood, and he knows I won’t make it. He knows he’s going to die by coming to me.
He doesn’t give a fuck.
He kneels in front of me.
“Kiro,” I whisper.
“I’m here.” Strong, warm arms circle around me. He puts his body over mine. His forehead to my cheek. “I’m here, Ann,” he whispers.
I wish more than anything that I could hold him, but I can’t move, clenched around my wound like a fist. But Kiro is here.
The man’s trying to get Kiro’s attention. He’s calling out to him. He wants him to turn to the camera, but Kiro is nobody’s bitch.
Kiro is wild and beautiful and utterly his own man. And we’ll never let go of each other now.
“Mine,” he whispers into my hair. His arms feel strong and good around me. I feel like the whole universe is around me, protecting me in Kiro’s embrace.
I can hear the sociopath saying mocking things in the distance.
His words don’t matter to us.
I turn up my head and kiss Kiro’s soft beard. Kiro is what’s real.
Kiro grunts softly. It’s a comforting sound that goes to my heart. We’re both more animal than human now, but our humanity has never been stronger. Clinging together like this.
Somebody approaches and tries to kick us apart.
Kiro snarls and throws the man into the cave wall with a horrible crack, and then he’s back.
Maybe they wanted to film Kiro’s face. Well, they got his face. I feel like I’m floating out of my body—like it’s all happening, yes, but to somebody else.
“Kiro,” I whisper.
Kiro grunts again, sounding more anguished. He feels like he’s losing me.
I tell myself to hold on. They’ll start shooting soon. They’ll have to kill him soon. He has to know that.
“Well, 34, what should we do now?”
He presses his forehead to mine. It hurts to remove even one hand from my belly, but I do. I don’t need to stanch the bleeding anymore. We won’t be getting any help out here, and anyway, I need to touch him. “I love you,” I say.
I stroke his beard the way he likes.
He holds me more tightly. Words never did mean anything to him. But they mean something to me.
There’s a yell just then.
Followed by a snarl. Not just any snarl, but an unholy snarl.
More than one snarl. Growls rip through the cave, savage and guttural.