Torn: Sequel to Ruthless

Chapter 11

Octavia

As we hobble toward Platform 8, Bark's weight presses heavily against us, each step a battle against exhaustion and despair. The oppressive silence of the arena is broken by a soft whistling sound. My heart skips a beat as I glance upward and spot a silver parachute descending gracefully through the dim light. The delicate lines shimmer, almost ethereal against the grim backdrop.

"Look!" Seena's voice trembles, caught between hope and fear.

The parachute lands with a soft thud a few feet ahead, the attached box gleaming faintly in the moonlight. A bold 7 is engraved on the lid, and my chest tightens. A sponsor has sent this—a lifeline from somewhere beyond these walls. But is it enough?

"Hold on," I murmur to Bark, carefully easing his arm off my shoulder. He barely stirs, his shallow breaths the only indication he's still alive.

Seena watches, her eyes wide and brimming with desperation, her hands trembling as they hover near Bark's bloodied shirt. "Please, let it be something... something to help him."

I crouch beside the parachute, my heart pounding in my ears, and slice through the strings with my sword. The box pops open, its contents spilling out onto the concrete. My breath catches. The first thing I see is a small vial filled with glowing blue liquid, sealed with a delicate stopper. It looks almost unreal, like something out of a storybook, but the note attached to it snaps me back to reality: Healing Serum.

"Medicine!" I gasp, holding the vial up, my hands trembling. Relief and fear coil in my chest. "It's some kind of healing potion!"

Seena lets out a soft, choked sob. "Give it to him! Hurry!"

I nod, wasting no time. Kneeling beside Bark, I cradle his head in one hand and uncork the vial with the other. The liquid emits a faint, almost otherworldly glow, and its scent—sharp yet oddly sweet—fills the air.

"Bark," I whisper, tilting the vial to his lips. "You have to drink this. Please."

His eyelashes flutter weakly, his lips barely parting. Slowly, I guide the liquid down his throat, each drop feeling like a fragile promise of salvation. Time stretches unbearably as Seena kneels beside me, clutching Bark's hand. Her whispers are a steady stream of encouragement, her voice cracking with every word.

"You're going to be okay," she murmurs. "You hear me? You're going to be okay."

The serum's glow fades as the last drop slides down Bark's throat. His head feels heavier in my hands, his stillness suffocating. Seena clings to him as though sheer willpower might be enough to keep him tethered to life.

Then, like a faint ripple in still water, something changes. His chest, which had been rising in shallow, uneven gasps, begins to move more steadily. The pallor in his cheeks recedes ever so slightly, replaced by a faint flush of color.

"He's responding," I breathe, the words barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Seena lets out a strangled cry of relief, pressing her forehead against Bark's and stroking his hair. Tears stream down her face, unchecked. "Thank you," she whispers, over and over, her voice breaking.

But the vial wasn't the only gift. I reach back into the box, pulling out the remaining items: a roll of bandages, a small flask of water, and a packet of dried food. Simple, but lifesaving.

"Bandages," I say, holding them up. My voice steadies as a wave of determination courses through me. "We can dress his wounds properly now."

"We'll need to move soon," Seena says softly, her fear breaking through the momentary relief. Her eyes dart to the shadows surrounding us. "It's not safe here."

I nod, already unrolling the bandages. Together, we work quickly, the arena's ever-present threat pressing down on us. The gashes across Bark's body are deep, each one a cruel reminder of how close we came to losing him. Seena's hands tremble as she wraps a bandage around his arm, her lips pressed into a thin line of focus and fear.

Apollo and Kai stand guard, their eyes scanning the dark for any sign of danger. Kai glances back at us, his expression grim but steady. "We'll carry him," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Whatever it takes to get him back to safety."

Apollo steps closer, his gaze locking with mine. There's an intensity in his eyes that sends a jolt through me. He places a steadying hand on my shoulder, pulling me slightly against his chest as though to shield me. "We've got this," he murmurs, his voice low but firm.

For once, I don't pull away. The warmth of his touch feels like an anchor in the chaos, even as my mind races with the dangers ahead.

With Bark bandaged and the serum taking effect, we lift him again, his weight distributed between Kai and Apollo. Seena walks beside them, whispering soft words to Bark, her voice a fragile thread of hope. His eyes remain closed, but his breathing is steady now, the life slowly returning to his battered body.

As Platform 8 comes into view, a flicker of relief sparks in my chest, though the fear remains close behind. We're not safe yet. Not even close. But as I glance at Bark—his chest rising and falling with newfound strength—I make a silent vow.

We've come this far together, and I'll do whatever it takes to see us through. This nightmare isn't the end. Not for Bark. Not for any of us.