Emperor of Rage: Chapter 48

The world feels like it’s slipping away, fading in and out like a half-remembered dream.

My skin screams. Every breath is shallow. It feels like the surface of my body is being grated off me, one layer at a time.

But none of that matters when my eyes slowly open.

Mal…

He’s lying on top of me, covering me.

But he’s completely still, his body limp and cold.

I try to shift under him, but my limbs don’t cooperate. Everything feels distant, like my body is a million miles away.

Somewhere in the distance, I hear car doors slamming. I hear someone scream my name, coming from the other side of the world.

“Mal…” I whisper. It’s barely a sound. My throat is too dry, too raw, and my voice doesn’t carry; it feels like a ghost is speaking what I want to say. “Mal… Wake up. They’re here…our friends… They’re coming for us…”

I wait for him to stir, to respond. But he doesn’t. He’s terrifyingly still and pale. His face is inches from mine, and I can’t even feel his breath on my cheek.

Jesus, his blood is everywhere.

My heart tightens as I see just how much of it there is. It coats my skin, sticky and cold, and my chest heaves as panic rises in me.

“Mal…” My voice cracks weakly. “Please… Wake up. I love you… Wake up…”

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t answer.

Everything spins, and I feel like I’m slipping under again, drowning in agony and fear. Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision as I lie there, helpless beneath him.

“Freya!”

The sound of my name, loud, sharp and desperate, cuts through the fog. My pulse races. I try to answer, but my voice is too weak to do anything but croak.

“Freya! Where are you?!”

Footsteps, fast and pounding, grow louder. I hear more voices—urgent, frantic.

“FREYA!”

It’s Annika. I’d know her voice anywhere. I try to call back, to tell her where I am, but I can’t. Everything is heavy, so very numb.

“FREYA!!!”

Someone is rushing toward me and falling onto their knees in the dirt next to me. My eyes flutter open, and I’m looking up into Annika’s scared, sobbing face.

Then I see the rest of them rush in behind her—Kenzo, Takeshi, Damian, and more. They all look terrified, their faces ashen as their eyes land on me. Kenzo is barking orders at someone. I want to scream for them to help Mal first, but my lips can barely move.

“Oh my God!” Annika chokes, her hand trembling as she reaches out. “Freya, can you hear me? We’re here, we’re going to get you out.”

“Help…him…” My voice is a weak, rasping plea. “Help…him…”

Annika’s eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. She looks up at Takeshi and Kenzo, her voice cracking. “We need medics, now!”

“Kir…Hana…” I manage to croak, my lips barely forming the words. “Basement…”

Everything fades away. I hear voices, feel hands lifting Mal from me. I start to cry, wanting him near me. Needing him near me. They’re taking me away from him, and I don’t want to go. I reach for him, my arm weakly outstretched, but it’s no use.

“Help him… please…” I choke, tears stinging my eyes.

The voices around me blur together, fading into the background as the world drifts away. I try to hold on, but I’m slipping, falling into the darkness.

Then I go under.

“Freya…”

When I wake, the first thing I notice is the steady beeping of machines, the rhythm soothing in its consistency. The next thing I notice is the smell—clean, antiseptic. I’m in a hospital. The sheets are soft, the air is cool.

But what really pulls me out of the hole is that I no longer feel searing pain on every inch of my skin.

I blink, my vision slowly clearing, and turn my head. Annika is sitting beside my bed, her eyes tired but warm.

“Hey…” she says softly, grinning. “You’re awake.”

My heart tightens. “Mal⁠—”

“Is okay,” she cuts me off gently, her smile widening just a bit. “He lost a lot of blood, but he’s out of surgery. He’s going to be okay.”

The relief that slams into me has my entire face crumpling, tears slipping down my cheeks. Anni starts to cry as well as she reaches for me, taking my bandaged hand in hers.

“Kir and Hana are okay, too,” Annika continues, her voice soft. “Kir came…close,” she says through a choked throat. “Like, really, really close. He was septic when he came in. So he’s going to be here a while, but he’s through the worst of it. They’re both going to be okay, Frey.”

My chest heaves with a mix of emotions. Relief, exhaustion, the lingering ache of everything that’s happened. I turn my head slightly, taking in the sterile white walls of the room.

“We’re in London,” Annika explains. “Kenzo had everyone airlifted from that farm in Norway. You’re in one of the best hospitals here.”

I nod weakly, too tired to say much.

“How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

I’d bolt upright, but it would hurt too much. Instead, I wince, glancing down at myself.

Fuck, that’s a lot of bandages.

“It looks worse than it is,” Annika says softly. “That’s what your chief physician told me, at least. Mostly second-degree burns, but a few were third degree. Those were bad.” Her mouth twists. “You’ll have some scars, Frey.”

“I dunno,” I wince, grinning wryly. “They say chicks dig scars. Think Mal will, too?”

She snorts and smiles widely. “I know he will.”

Annika looks at me for a long moment, her expression shifting. “Hana told me…you know,” she says quietly.

I swallow hard. I know exactly what she means. I spent hours down in that basement wondering how I’d talk to Annika about the Kir thing if I ever saw her again.

“I don’t even know if it’s true,” I mumble.

Annika raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Well, if it is… That’s one hell of an upgrade.”

I grin, but before I can respond, the door creaks open. I turn my head, my heart skipping a beat when I see Mal shove it the rest of the way open and stagger inside, leaning on a crutch.

He’s pale, his face drawn, but he’s walking—if barely.

Annika leaps to her feet. “Are you fucking serious?!” she blurts, rushing to him, “Mal! You’re supposed to be in bed! You’re supposed to be unconscious, actually!”

“Yeah, not happening,” he growls, his eyes locked on me as he pushes past Anni.

When he reaches my bedside, I can’t hold back the tears. He grabs me gently, pulling me into his arms, careful not to hurt me, but I can feel the fierce desperation in his touch.

“Hug me harder,” I blurt, my voice thick with emotion.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs as his lips brush over my hair.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” I sob, clinging to him as tightly as I can. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers back hoarsely.

Annika stands in the doorway, watching us. “Um, maybe you both could take it easy?” she teases, her voice soft and affectionate.

I laugh through my tears, burying my face in Mal’s chest, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat steady against mine. His mouth finds mine, and I whimper, choking out a sob as our lips crush together.

“Yeah, you know, or don’t,” Annika mutters from behind us. “Not like you both just almost died or anything.”

I pull away from Mal just long enough to grin at her. She grins back.

“Right, well, guess that’s my cue.”

When she’s gone, I moan and slam my mouth back to Mal’s. He kisses me fiercely and desperately, possessively and entirely. Like he always does.

And always will.