Rain's POV – Wasteland
I was so damn tired. Hungry. Weak. Every inch of my body ached like I'd been steamrolled by a truck and then hit again just for fun.
Honestly? I wasn't even seeing straight anymore. The woods around me spun like a bad dream—trees twisting, the ground wobbling beneath my feet. My head throbbed like a bass drum.
"Rain. Rain, are you alright?" Eric's voice cut through the haze.
I blinked, tried to focus. His face was just a blur. "Yeah," I mumbled, barely managing to lift a hand to my temple. "I'm good."
Lie. Total bullshit. But I couldn't afford to show weakness. Not now. Not in front of him. Even if he'd pulled me out of that cursed well, I wasn't about to forget that he was still a man—and I didn't trust men. Not anymore.
My foot caught something—probably a stupid rock—and I went down like a sack of potatoes. No grace. No warning. Just pain.
"Shit!" Eric rushed toward me.
"Don't," I snapped, trying to swat his hands away. But my arms felt like overcooked noodles. My body had completely betrayed me.
He ignored me, pulling me up like I weighed nothing. His hand touched my forehead.
"Damn it, Rain," he muttered, concern etched across his face. "You're burning up. You've got a fever. Let me carry you."
He turned his back, crouched a little, waiting for me to climb on.
I didn't move.
"Rain," he said again—firmer this time. "Get on my back."
He could get as mad as he wanted. I wasn't climbing on his back again. Period.
After a few seconds, he stood and turned to face me, frustration clear in his jawline.
"Jesus, Rain. Stop being stubborn for one second. You need to trust me if we're gonna survive out here."
I bent forward, bracing my hands on my knees just to stay upright. Every breath felt like glass. "Trust you?" I croaked. "Yeah… I don't think so. Where are we even going?"
"To a friend," he said. "Someone I know. Someone I trust. They'll help."
I squinted up at him through the blur in my vision. "You have friends in the wasteland?"
"Yes," he said. "A long time ago. But this isn't the time for questions—"
"No, no," I hissed. "You listen. You're Batista's teacher, right? You taught him. That traitor. That lying, backstabbing piece of—" My legs buckled again and I clutched a tree for support. "I don't trust anything that comes from him. He acts like he cares... then stabs you in the back."
Eric's jaw clenched. "Alpha Batista is not who you think he is. Whatever you're holding on to—it's wrong."
"Tell that to the birds," I spat. "Or better yet, tell it to the hole in my heart."
His tone softened. "Rain, please. It's getting dark. We need shelter. Let me help you."
"I don't need you to carry me," I muttered. "Just… lead the way to your magical-ass shelter so I can pass out in peace."
But before I could finish, he held up a hand. "Shh."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't shush me."
"Someone's coming," he whispered, eyes scanning the trees.
I squinted at him. "What?"
"Footsteps. Fast ones. We need to get out of sight—now."
I didn't hear shit. Just my heart hammering in my ears. "Oh please," I scoffed. "Trying to scare me now? That won't work."
Eric's jaw clenched. "I'm serious. Come on." He grabbed my hand, trying to pull me behind some thick brush.
I yanked it back with what little strength I had, my breaths coming out in rapid puffs. "Now you show your true colors."
"What?" he hissed, clearly confused.
"You think I don't know? This is your plan, huh? Batista sent you to drag me out here and kill me where no one could hear me scream. So you could destroy my soul? Well, you failed."
His mouth parted, stunned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Stop pretending," I spat. "Either we keep moving, or I go back and throw myself into that well. I'll do it myself."
"I don't have time for this," he growled and reached for my arm again.
Big mistake.
I sunk my teeth into his hand.
"Shit!" He jerked back. "Did you just bite me?!"
"Don't ever touch me again without asking," I snapped, my eyes locked on his. "You hear me?"
He cursed under his breath. "Rain, you're gonna get yourself killed."
"Stop shushing me!" I shouted. "There's no one here!"
He looked around, eyes scanning the trees like he saw ghosts. "They're close. Rain, please. We have to hide."
"I'm not hiding. I'm walking."
He gave me one last look, pure frustration in his face. "I tried. Don't be scared. You're not gonna die, not here. You're stronger than all this shit. I'll find you again, I swear."
And just like that, he turned and vanished into the woods. The leaves swallowed him whole.
I blinked at the spot where he disappeared, half expecting him to pop out and say just kidding. "Really putting in the effort, aren't you?" I muttered. "Go ahead, Eric. When you're done starring in your one-man horror show, I'll be right—"
Something slammed into my forehead.
Hard.
The pain was instant and blinding. The world spun around me like a merry-go-round gone wrong. I hit the ground flat on my back, gasping for breath. Dizziness drowned me. Voices followed.
Male voices.
"She's mine."
"No, I saw her first!"
They were fighting. Over me.
I tried to move—tried to crawl, scream, anything—but I was too weak. My arms wouldn't cooperate.
Then I saw him.
A man stepped into my line of sight, his body blocking out the sky. He was huge. Disgustingly huge. A pot belly bulged over his filthy belt. His breath was rancid—like rotting meat mixed with sewage. His teeth were brown and broken, and drool dripped from his lips as he grinned.
"You look delicious," he growled, licking his lips. "I'm going to enjoy sexing you, girl. You'll scream for more."
I whimpered, trying to push him off with all the strength I had left, but it was nothing—my hands shook like leaves. He just laughed. His disgusting hands crawled all over me, squeezing, pulling.
"I like 'em squirmy," he chuckled.
Then another man joined him—just as hideous, maybe worse. This one had warts all over his neck and missing patches of hair.
"You're wasting time," he grunted. "Let's strip her and be done."
They clawed at my red dress, tugging, yanking—but it wouldn't tear. The fabric held tight, resisting them like it had a will of its own.
"Why won't it rip?" the bald one barked.
"Don't know—try harder!"
I kept struggling, but my body wasn't listening anymore. The effort made my vision flicker. One of them slapped me hard across the face, and I swear I heard bells ring in my skull.
My head rolled to the side. I saw more of them now—laughing in the background, cheering the others on. Monsters. All of them.
Then—sudden silence.
The laughter stopped like someone had flipped a switch.
But the two men didn't. They kept tearing at me like rabid animals until—
A voice roared through the woods.
"What are you both doing?"
The two men froze.
"I asked you a question."
They scrambled to bow, their heads hitting the dirt.
"N-Nothing, my lord," one of them stammered. "Just checking if the girl's alive."
"I thought you wanted her for yourself," the voice said coldly. "Every female slave we see belongs to King Ramus. Or have you both forgotten?"
"No, my lord! We—we didn't know—"
Footsteps approached. I turned my head and saw him.
Not hideous like the others. He was cleaner, dressed in dark armor with silver accents. His boots were polished, and his face, though hard and cruel, lacked the filth of the others.
He stared at me with quiet, calculating eyes.
"Put her on the horse," he said.
And that was the last thing I heard before the darkness came to swallow me whole.