Selene's POV
"Please, don't... Don't abandon me.
My words tumble out of my mouth like shattered glass, each one piercing more deeply than the one before it. I have no idea whence they originate—some buried, frantic cries for assistance. But no one is around to listen. The rain's constant hammering is the sole sound.
I feel like my body weighs more than it should. Every muscle and neuron in my body feels a shiver that is icy and piercing. My limbs are as rigid as stone, despite my best efforts to move. I'm having trouble opening my eyes. They're sealed shut as if I can't tolerate the world outside of them.
I don't remember how I got here, and it's all dark. However, I sense it. The cold, damp ground below me. The world's weight bearing down on my chest. And the stinging, metallic taste of blood at the back of my throat.
Every drop feels like a slap on my flesh as the rain gets heavier. The noise is overwhelming. How many minutes have I been lying here? I don't know. Hours? Days? Time seems to have stopped and I feel as though I'm stuck in the center of something from which I can't get out.
It hurts when I try to breathe.
One more sharp breath. My ribs hurt. It's all too much. Then there was a presence.
I feel it, but I'm not sure why. A change in the atmosphere. The low, authoritative voice of a guy pierces the rain like a sword.
"Hey there, stay with me?"
He has such a near voice. Too near. My chest gets constricted. There is something familiar about it.
I have trouble concentrating and understanding the world. When I eventually open my eyes, the light is a haze of colorful shapes. Above me, a man's form cuts through the fog, silhouetted against the storm. Tall and strong. His shadowy figure hangs over me like a raindrop.
He says, "Hey, hey, you're okay," in a harsh yet strangely comforting voice.
I try to talk, but I can't get the words out. Rather, my mouth makes ineffective movements while tasting the same unpleasant metal. I choke on it.
His big, powerful hand steadies me by softly pressing against my throat. "Avoid attempting to speak. Simply take a breath.
His hold is powerful, but his touch is warm. I get a shock from the warmth of his fingers on my skin. His touch makes me shudder, yet I'm not afraid. Just a tremendous feeling of relief. Never in my life have I felt so vulnerable, so defenseless, yet so... secure.
In and out of focus, the globe tilts. Who is he? I must question him. Where am I? But I can't answer the queries. Only the rain is present. The how it sounds. The relentless rain.
He moves his hand to my shoulder, raising me and drawing me in his direction. I'm having trouble keeping my head up. Everything spins as if I'm floating in a dream, even though the ground seems so far away now. My legs don't feel right. All I can feel in my body is a combination of aches and jagged, piercing agony.
"I've got you. His voice sounds odd, but he assures them that everything will be fine. A constriction. A hesitancy. He seems to be trying to persuade himself as much as he is attempting to persuade me.
"Who are you?" The question barely escapes my lips as I whisper it. He doesn't respond, though.
He doesn't have to.
The sound of heavy footsteps behind him is audible to me; another man is rushing swiftly in our direction.
The voice, low and rough, orders, "Get her inside." At first, the words seem too far away to make sense, yet I can sense their authority. "We must warm her up. Right now.
Whoever he is, the figure draws me in and lifts me off the ground as if I were completely weightless. Even though I can no longer feel much, his fingers dig into the softness of my wrist as his grip tightens. It's all numb. The only things keeping me together are the chilly rain, the smell of wet earth, and that man's warmth.
However, something changes as he moves. Something clicks within me. A flash of insight. I recall, albeit I'm not sure how. A moniker.
Before I can stop it, the name escapes my lips as I gasp. "Caius..."
The man gasps for air. There is a momentary silence. The air remains still for a moment. I can sense the stress in his body even though he doesn't say anything. He's holding on to it like a secret. Somewhere far under the surface lies the truth.
He doesn't respond, but I am aware. I know somehow.
Laurent Caius. Strange and unfamiliar, the name still rings in my head, although it seems to have been there all along.
"Who are you?" I make another attempt, but my words are strained and break beneath the force of my bewilderment.
He doesn't respond. Not initially.
But then he continues, "I don't know what you were running from," in a voice so faint I almost miss it. However, I will not allow it to take you.
I want to ask him a lot of things, but I can't get the words out of my mouth. I'm not sure whether I want to hear the responses.
His steps are rapid but deliberate as he carries me along. As the storm rages overhead, the sky grows darker and the rain gets heavier. As my head rests on his chest, I can hear his heart beating quickly. It's powerful and steady, like a pulse that keeps the world from collapsing.
The sound of his words then abruptly pierces my mental haze once more.
"We're about there. Remain with me.
I have no idea where "there" is. I have no idea who this man is, where I am, or what happened to me. However, the word "Caius" keeps coming back to me like an unbreakable link.
I feel my heart thumping in time with his stride. I'm experiencing an odd sensation in my chest, a stirring, but I'm unable to explain it.
We come to a door. The sound of its opening is muffled by the rain.
"Now inside."
The voice is urgent and piercing. A wave of warmth sweeps over me, drawing me closer. I inhale the crackling fire within as though it can heal me and rescue me from this fog and storm.
Water rushes across my face, feeling frigid. He's cleaning my skin of the rain. However, it's not the rain that chills me to the bone. His gaze on me is the cause. The moment when his eyes briefly lock with mine.
They're filled with something I can't identify. Perhaps it's guilt. Or remorse. Or perhaps something more terrible.
"Who are you?" My throat is burning with the question. However, it sounds weaker than I would like.
He narrows his eyes momentarily. The quiet between us is like a taut wire that is about to break. However, he turns aside just as I believe he will say anything.
"Now you're safe," he murmurs. "However, I cannot guarantee that it will remain that way."
The utterance lingers. Before I can say anything more, though, the door slams shut, muted by the sound of the storm outside, except for the faint hum of my own pounding heart.