It lasted forever.
My body swayed forward with every hit, and I kept my eyes on the bark for concentration. It would end soon. I just had to wait, had to be patient.
He continued to strike me, the whip making a loud crack every time it hit my flesh.
I tried to stay quiet, but I couldn’t. I started to whimper with every hit, my feet slipping on the snow because I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. The arrow was still in my arm, and I was weak from the punch I’d received to the head. I wasn’t ready for this, ready to survive this with dignity.
Then it stopped.
“Oh, thank god…”
“No.” The executioner’s deep voice was a threatening growl. “Harder.”
I closed my eyes and felt the tears drip down my cheeks because I couldn’t take much more of this.
Magnus hesitated.
“Or would you rather I do it?” the executioner challenged.
God no.
Magnus struck me harder than before.
I cried out and swung forward from the momentum of his hit.
He didn’t take pauses between hits anymore. He just fired them off, one after another, hitting me repeatedly and giving me no time to breathe.
It was excruciating.
Either from the loss of blood or the overload of pain, I knew my feet couldn’t support me anymore, and I just started to dangle there, my head dropping, my gaze losing focus.
“What are you doing?” the executioner asked. “Keep going.”
Magnus lost his temper. “She’s not even conscious anymore.”
“And neither are the men she killed!”
Was I going to die like this, hanging from a tree?
“Enough.” Magnus’s footsteps approached me, his boots hitting the snow.
Thank fucking god.
The rope above my hands was cut, and I fell forward, landing in his outstretched arms.
I collapsed against him, so weak I couldn’t stand, in so much pain that I couldn’t focus on anything else.
He tried to get me to stand and walk.
“I can’t…” I fell down onto the snow, landing in the powder, the ice feeling a little better on my back. But my mind faded in and out, like a weak radio signal the antenna couldn’t pick up because of poor reception.
Magnus stared down at me for a second, as if deciding what to do. Then he kneeled, scooped his arms underneath my body, and lifted me from the ground. He turned me into his chest and carried me away from the tree, past the executioner and the guards standing under the lit torches.
I kept my gaze focused on his chest, refusing to look at the men who watched one of their own carry me away.
The brightness faded as we left the clearing, as we walked down the path that we took every morning to work on the line. The only sound was his boots crunching against the new powder that had come in with the storm that was supposed to mask my escape.
I was in so much pain.
My arms circled his neck, and I pressed my face into his body, feeling safe for the first time since the last time we were together. The only thing stopping those men from ripping me apart was the man who carried me when I could no longer walk. He was the only reason I was still alive.
He held me a little bit closer, protecting me from the cold.
When we got to my cabin, he carried me inside and set me on the bed.
I collapsed, writhing in agony.
“I need you to stand.”
“I can’t…”
“Yes, you can. Come on.” He pulled medical supplies out of his pockets, including a roll of gauze.
I forced myself off the bed and onto my feet, suddenly aware that my top had fallen off at some point. I stood naked from the waist up, my tits visible, my back covered in my blood. But I didn’t hide my nakedness because I just didn’t care.
Magnus didn’t seem to care either because he didn’t look. He started to unroll the gauze and wrap it around my body, making me wince at the pressure. He started at my waist and slowly moved up higher, covering every single injury as he moved over my breasts.
I hadn’t noticed the pain when he’d lifted me, but I definitely noticed it now.
His eyes were down on his movements the entire time, his brown eyes steady and focused, like that scene that just happened in the clearing didn’t affect him emotionally. He taped the gauze into place then opened my nightstand to pull out new clothes. “Get dressed.”
I couldn’t do it, so I just lay back on the bed, still in my bloody pants and boots.
He stood over me.
I turned on my side to get the pressure off my back. My brain was in shock, but once that wore off, I would feel the pain even worse. There was no way I would get through the night, at least not if I intended to sleep.