Harlo

brutal. I was a st

t u

e looked at me with a flicker of guilt

g of agony. The wound had clotted, but

said. "Brittaney needs

walk,"

. The Mate spark zapped us both.

ll walk

d my legs to work

ailing behind them, my limp pronounced, sweat slicking my

touched. She piled boxes into

e smirked. "Don't dro

rned to the villa,

ordered, pointing to a pil

like ice against my fever-hot skin. I dipped a red dress into th

beep of monitors.

whispered, adjusting my IV. "

feel hope, the

t holding flowers. He was

forehead. The metal was co

you use?"

ad

the dress you washed. She's i

obbed. "I

eless, and now y

he hammer b