Smoke clawed at my throat as I pressed against the wall, half-blind and trembling. The world outside was chaotic. I could hear loud shouts and running feet, the crackle of burning timber, too.
"Get the hose! Now!" Dorian's voice cut through everything.
The same man from earlier shouted, "You're not seriously thinking of going in there, bro, are you?"
"I'm not leaving her!" Dorian's voice was sharp and desperate.
"You've lost your damn mind!" the man yelled. "Everyone is out already! At least we could wait for the fire service!"
I wanted to scream, *I'm here!* but only a cough came out. The smoke thickened, curling into my lungs until my chest burned.
"She's still in there!" Dorian's voice tore through the chaos again.
"And you think you can save her alone? For what? You don't even like that girl!"
"I do!" he shouted in raw anger. "Her father was my friend, Wintle! The man was very good to me. I owe him this much."
"You owe him?" the man snapped. "One minute you don't care, the next you're ready to burn for her? Make it make sense!"
"I owe her my life!" Dorian thundered. "I'll burn before I abandon his daughter."
The man's voice turned frantic. "Then grab him, everyone! For crying out loud, Dorian, the fire service will be here in no time… you can't hurt yourself, please!"
"Shut up!" Dorian barked, and I heard the scuffle, the sound of bodies colliding and boots scraping the ground. Then a loud grunt. I suspected he must have broken free.
As his feet began sounding, I guessed he must have stepped into the inferno. The crowd erupted. "No, Mr. Steele, don't do this!" someone screamed. "Oh, I can't look!"
The sound of their terror mixed with the roar of the fire was a horrible symphony of fear and disbelief. My pulse faltered, and my body trembled. Was he really coming for me? Did he really care that much about me? I just hoped this was a very bad nightmare.
"Riya! Riya, can you hear me? Stay close; I'm coming for you!" His loud baritone voice rang through the chaos.
He was really doing this for me. That thought stayed, even as the dark closed in and my vision began to blur. My eyes kept glowing, and the wolf in me begged for life.
The air showed no mercy. It continued to thin fast, burning my lungs like acid. I crawled toward the corner, gasping for a breath that wouldn't come. The fire roared louder, devouring everything. And my body? It was already hot from the heat in the room.
"Help," I whispered, but my voice drowned in the crackling flames. I felt myself sinking, my pulse slowing. Just then, a crash echoed from the door. Metal clanged, and his voice cut through the fire.
"Riya!" His boots sounded through burning wood. My fragile eyes tried to look at him, but I kept coughing, my vision blurring as smoke surrounded me and sparks caught on his shirt.
He coughed. "Riya, answer me! Talk to me!"
I tried, but nothing came out. He fought through the flames, one arm shielding his face. The heat tore at him, but he kept going. "Where are you?" he shouted again.
I lifted a hand weakly. "Here…" It was barely a sound.
His head snapped toward me. Then he was there, falling to his knees beside me. His eyes searched my face, wild and terrified. "Stay with me," he breathed. "You hear me? Don't close your eyes, Riya."
I blinked slowly; my vision was fading in and out. The wolf in me stirred faintly, trying to heal, but the fire was too strong, the air too thin. He touched my face with shaking hands. "No… no, don't you dare give up on me."
"Y-you… shouldn't be here," I rasped.
"Shut up," he said sharply, in a broken voice. "You think I'd stand out there and let you die?"
His legs were burning. I could see it, the flames licking the fabric of his trousers, but he didn't move, didn't even flinch. He only pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around me.
"Let's get you out of here," he whispered. "I'll carry you."
I tried to focus, to tell him to run, but my tongue felt heavy and useless. He tightened his hold. "Look at me. Riya, open your eyes. Come on, I'm right here. Don't you dare leave me."
"Please," he said, his tone breaking completely now. "Your father wouldn't forgive me if I let you die like this. Please."
I wanted to answer, to tell him I could hear him, that I wasn't gone yet. But my lips wouldn't move. My body went limp in his arms. He shook me gently. "No, no, no! Riya, stay with me, damn it!"
The fire screamed around us, devouring everything. And still, he didn't let go. "Come on," he muttered, lifting me. "I've got you."
My last sight before everything went black was the reflection of the flames dancing in his eyes, fierce, broken, unyielding.
As Dorian ran out, I could hear the sound of the ambulance siren. I guessed the paramedics were there, but I couldn't say a word. My lips were too heavy, my lungs too weak to draw in air.
As Dorian dropped me on the stretcher, he began to cry. "Open your eyes, Riya… please, please don't go."
I could hear him clearly, every tremble in his voice, but my body refused to move.
"We can feel a pulse, sir! She's still alive!" one of the paramedics shouted.
The sound of water from the fire service filled my ears, the strong hiss of hoses quenching flames that had almost devoured me. People's voices blurred in the distance, but I could still feel Dorian's hand clutching mine tightly, refusing to let go.
"She's breathing, but it's shallow," a woman said. "We have to move now!"
Then I felt the wheels of the stretcher rolling fast, the air outside cooling my face. I tried to open my eyes, to see him, to let him know I was still here, but darkness dragged me back each time.
When they lifted me into the ambulance, he climbed in after me despite their protests. "Sir, you're injured too…"
"I said I'm fine! Just take care of her!" he barked.
The doors slammed shut. The siren screamed to life again. He took my hand, holding it tight against his chest.
"Don't you dare leave me now," he whispered, the sound of sobbing after each word. "You hear me, Riya? I'll fire you, I'll fire you… please!"
I wanted to tell him I could hear him, that I was still fighting, but my voice was lost in the storm of sirens, my heartbeat fading to its quiet rhythm.