Chapter 67: Can we talk?[GTG]
The whine of my lungs was like a rusty bellows, scraping with every labored breath as I hauled myself up the last of the stairs. Each step was a jolt, rattling through my bones and the dull ache in my head bloomed, throbbing like it was ready to crack my skull open. The migraine thudded in rhythm with my heartbeat, drowning out my own ragged breaths.
"Fucking low stamina." The curse escaped between pants, my chest rising and falling. Felt like something was about to break.
When I finally reached the landing, the metallic taste on my tongue was so sharp, I gagged. But relief? Gone in an instant. Replaced by that twist of apprehension. The kind that sinks deep and gnaws.
Where were the sounds? Shouldn’t there be clashing swords? Cries? The rooftop should have been echoing with battle.
Something was wrong.
My gaze zeroed in on the metal door at the end of the hall. It was barely open, just a sliver of dim light cutting through the air. My chest tightened again. Hadn’t the fight been raging a second ago? Maybe I’d miscalculated. Maybe they’d killed each other in there. Or worse, someone else had gotten there first.
"Doubtful," I muttered, but even to my ears, it sounded weak.
Forcing myself to steady, I took a slow, deep breath. The cool metal of the door pressed against my fingers. And with each nerve screaming, I twisted the knob. The hinges groaned, resisting, as if trying to warn me.
And then I saw her.