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With my hands tied, I had no way of eating. Not that I had an appetite. My nose reeked of antiseptic and Sully’s blood. But I was sensible enough to know I’d need the energy later—if I could figure out how to eat it.

My mind dared skip into the future, to fixate on the deal I’d made with Drake.

Sully was being cared for…but I would pay the price of that luxury.

When Drake returned, I’d be forced to drink elixir for the fourth time and lose myself in the haze of desire. I would have to give myself to another man…all to save the one I loved.

Tears prickled. Fear rose.

Don’t.

Just don’t.

Sniffing back helplessness, I kicked the sandwich off my lap and swallowed down my nausea. I almost threw up as Dr Campbell turned his attention to Sully’s leg.

Sully stiffened as he unwrapped the bandage, snarling under his breath as the sodden material pulled at the wound.

Light-headedness hit me as the full carnage of his thigh appeared.

Oh. My. God.

What had Drake done to him? Shot him with a fucking arrow?

Tears spilled, despite my commands not to. I sniffed and trembled as the doctor inspected the stitches holding Sully’s leg together and poked around as if it was a chewed-up piece of meat that had no feeling.

Sully swayed as the doctor grabbed a huge, wicked syringe from his bag.

He looked up, searching Sully’s face, unable to catch his blind eyes. “You might want to lie down for this.”

Sully swallowed hard. “What are you going to do?”

“Your stitches have pulled away in some areas. There’s puss which indicates the antibiotics aren’t working as quickly as I’d like. You’ve agreed to the less mainstream methods. I intend to administer them.”

“Ah, fuck.” Sully gingerly lay down on metal wire, his eyes closed and face tight with pain. His hands balled as Dr Campbell repositioned himself between Sully’s spread legs and inserted the nasty looking needle directly into the wound.

Sully bellowed. His body spasmed.

He fell lax into unconsciousness.

The doctor looked up, waiting to see if he’d wake. When he didn’t, he muttered, “That’s for the best. I can work quicker with him no longer aware.” Injecting him again, he continued inserting and depressing the plunger until the silver liquid had evacuated the syringe and vanished into Sully’s flesh.

Next, he pulled out a needle and surgical twine, embroidering new stitches on the areas that’d pulled out of his skin. Finally, he squirted a skin adhesive, gluing Sully’s leg as well as stitching it. “That should hold…as long as he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

My sandwich lay forgotten on the floor.

I clamped my lips together, fighting the urge to vomit.

Tears cascaded faster as I studied the mangled man in the cage.

I didn’t care about my own predicament. I didn’t fret over my payment with Drake.

All that mattered was Sully.

He was still the majestic magistrate of this paradise, but he’d paid for that title with every drop of blood he had. Every molecule of pain. Every shred of sanity.

“The harpoon really mangled his thigh,” the doctor muttered, wrapping a fresh bandage around Sully’s leg.

Harpoon?

My heart cracked; I slouched in my rope.

I’m too late.

If only I’d arrived sooner. Found him quicker.

Dr Campbell looked up. “I know he’s going to attempt to walk on this. I know he doesn’t really have a choice…but I can’t guarantee he won’t have a permanent limp if he does, even with the nanobots knitting him together.”

I bit my bottom lip and didn’t speak, too green and terrified to reply.

He returned to work. Once he’d secured the bandage, he crawled toward Sully’s face and peeled open his eyes.

He winced. “He’s right. I am guilty of this. What a fucking bastard to do this to his own kin—to anyone.”

Swallowing hard, clammy with sickness and full of pain for what Sully endured, I stuttered, “What…what did he do to him? Is he blind?”

“Whatever he did, the sclera is irritated, and his cornea is black. His pupils don’t dilate with light. I’ve never seen anything like…wait.” He narrowed his gaze, leaning forward. His hand trembled as he pulled Sully’s eyelid higher and touched his pupil.

A black contact lens stuck to his finger, pulling away and revealing an angry purple-blue iris.

“It’s just a blockage.” He smiled weakly, hope flaring over his face. “A simple barrier…a curtain if you will.” Peering at the lens on his finger, he added, “A lens that blinds instead of enhances.”

I couldn’t speak.

I could barely contain the rage toward Drake and the relief for Sully.

The doctor gave me another half-smile before returning to his task. Removing the other lens, he applied three drops of something into each eye before sticking thick cotton pads over Sully’s eyelids. “If he wakes, tell him to keep the padding on for as long as he can. The more time those drops have to work, the better his chances at seeing.”


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