Miya was barely breathing.
Her blood stained the earth, and it's soaking into the roots of the garden's pristsine sroses, as if nature itself wept for her. I pressed my hands against the deepest wound on her side, but the blood kept pouring, it won't stop.
My white t-shirt s was no longer white. It clung to me, soaked and sticky, painted with her pain.
"Miya, stay with me... Please..."
I whispered, my voice cracking, panic rising in my throat like a tide I couldn't push down.
"Please, don't you dare die on me or I'm going to kill you again!"
She blinked slowly, her lips quivering as she fought to speak.
"You… have to listen."
SMiya rasped.
"He's coming. Alaric, he's not… alone. He's not far behind me."
"I know..."
I whispered, even though I didn't.
"Just save your strength."
But she shook her head with the little energy she had left, her bloodied fingers gripping mine.
"No. You don't know. You don't know what he's become."
