But it was his eyes… his beautiful dark eyes that had my soul in pain. His pupils were dilated so they looked completely black. The whites of his eyes were the brightest red, many veins having burst. And it was easy to see why. Heart-wrenching screams were pouring from his throat, his back arching off the bed, his limbs stiff as though he was being burned from the inside.
My legs had given way at the shock of seeing him in this tortured state. And I had ended up on the floor. The magnitude of what Viking and AK described was now glaring me in the face. Flame was in such pain. More than I had ever witnessed before.
His head then spun to stare at me. And all his frantic, thrashing ceased. I held my breath, afraid to make any sudden movements. And I waited for him to see me, to see it was really me, Maddie. The young woman he ceaselessly guarded, but his eyes seemed to stare straight through me. Emotion swelled up my throat. Without moving an inch, a tear fell down my cheek.
Catching a flicker of something in Flame’s haunted gaze, my heart leaped with hope. I edged forward as his dried bruised lips opened, then it shattered into a million pieces.
“Kill me…” His voice was rasped, like he had swallowed tiny shards of glass. But his request had sailed to my ears as loud as if it were a scream. The fingers on his hands became rigid and his back began to arch.
“Kill me,” he growled again, harsher this time. I could see that whatever held him in its thrall was regaining its strength. But there was no doubt about what Flame wanted. What he was begging me to do.
The veins in his blood-covered arms tensed, the ribbons of hard muscles protruding from his torso as his fists clenched. His body began to tremble.
Flame’s head began to twitch, his eyes glazing as his legs pulled on the ties strapping him down. A pained cry burst from his lips; and I jumped to my feet unable to stand his pain. My chest was cracking with every second that passed. This was not any way to live. But I could not kill him. I could not...
When his dark eyes did fall upon me, I could see his silent plea. He no longer wanted to live in this manner. He wanted to be free of his pain. Like I had, for so many years, he wanted to be free.
Choking down a sob, I stepped forward. Flame’s back arched and dropped, then arched and dropped down to the sweat-soaked mattress beneath him. I wanted to touch him. I wanted more than anything to put my hand on his arm, and to tell him he would be okay. I wanted to release his ties and hold him in my arms.
But I could not. Our respective fears and barriers held me back. It was too much for me cope with right now. I became suspended in the moment. But no one should exist like this; in so much hurt and pain.
Only feet away from the bed, my hands shook so severely that I feared they would never stay calm again.
My assessing gaze roved over the welts on his arms... and the blood. My eyes tracked north, watching his skin jumping and his muscles twitching. Then finally, I reached those eyes. Eyes that robbed me of breath. They were watching me. Flame’s hand suddenly reached out as far as the tie would allow, and he whispered, “The flames. The flames are too hot. I can’t… I can’t stop them… tied down… too much… kill me… please…”
“Flame,” I cried out on a sob. I shook my head. “I… I can’t… I—”
“Please…” The desperate timbre of his graveled voice cut into my soul, blistering my heart.
Flame’s head rolled to the side as another wave of pain racked his body. He had lost weight. His skin was a deathly white and his eyes were raw with pain.
Closing my eyes, I drew in a deep breath. When I opened them, I glanced up. On the wall was a strip of metal, magnetic metal holding rows and rows of knives. A roar spilled from Flame’s throat, and I knew that any calm he had mustered had just waned.
Kill me… the flames are too hot… I mulled over his words and his plea. And I found my feet slowly walking forward.