THORNE
Mother rocked me, her hand coming to that familiar place where my neck met my hair. My lids fluttered closed, my body relaxing against her familiar warmth.
Again, I caught myself just as my knees buckled, my lids peeling open with effort that felt monumental.
The Blood Marshal's claws ripped into my gut and I let out a gasp as I came to, like I had just been pulled from underwater.
Pain exploded through my abdomen, sharp and immediate, dragging me back to reality. Blood poured hot down my stomach, soaking into my clothes, and I stumbled backward, my hand pressing instinctively against the wound.
The Blood Marshal stood before me, claws extended and dripping with my blood, head tilted in that same assessing angle.
Then shrill screaming ripped through the air. My Gammas screaming from every direction, their voices distorted by the labyrinth's acoustics and the mirrors that surrounded us. Sounds of agony, of flesh being torn, of death happening in places I couldn't reach.
