Silent Vows

Part 43

Blood dripped from his hands as she lay limp in his arms, her weight sinking into him, lifeless.

His entire body trembled against hers; hands ice-cold, face just as pale as hers, eyes wide with terror, tears streaming down without pause.

In a heartbeat, his coat was off, pressing it tightly against her side in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding.

She was losing too much, far too fast. And with every drop that left her body, it felt like something was slipping from his too; his pulse faltering, his soul unraveling.

The blood was warm; frighteningly warm, and it soaked through the coat like the fabric didn't even exist.

He pulled her closer, his heart pounding wildly, legs barely holding him up as if all life had been drained out of him.

Letting out a shaky breath, he rose with her in his arms, hurriedly carrying her to the car. Gently, he laid her on the backseat, then slid in beside her.

One hand remained firmly over the wound while the other reached for the seatbelt.

With one hand still pressing down, he reached for the seatbelt strap, yanked it free, and tied it around her waist, over the coat, tightening it as much as he could, anything to slow the bleeding, anything to keep her here.

His men jumped into action, taking the wheel and starting the engine with urgency. The car sped off toward the nearest hospital.

He didn't speak. Couldn't. His voice was gone; choked by the panic and the pain clawing at his chest.

His glassy, tear-filled eyes stayed locked on her unconscious face, her head resting on his thigh, while his hand pressed harder, trembling under the unbearable weight of fear.

Everything inside him was collapsing, and there was no word in existence that could ever describe it.

In that moment, nothing else existed. The world around them seemed to blur into silence, frozen in time.

No voices, no lights, no movement; just her. His every breath matched hers, slow, shallow, agonizing.

With his free hand, he reached out, fingers trembling as they gently laced around hers.

He closed his eyes, just for a second, feeling the faint, slowing pulse beneath her skin syncing with his own.

'Don't you dare give up on me...'
The words never left his lips, but they echoed through his soul. It wasn't a threat, it was a prayer.

A quiet, desperate plea he hoped somehow reached her.

His eyes opened again, glassy with unshed tears. He couldn't afford to fall apart.

Not now. Not when she needed him the most. He had to be strong; for her. He had to bring her back. His Yn.

Blood continued to seep through the coat, staining it deeper by the second. The sight made his own blood run cold.

He pressed harder, arms tightening around her as if he could physically hold her life in place.

"How much longer?!" he shouted, his voice raw, cracking from the crying and yelling that had already torn through him. "Speed the damn car!"

The vehicle surged forward, weaving recklessly through traffic, sirens blaring in the distance.

His heart pounded harder with every mile, his grip on her hand firm and unwavering.

"Just a little more... we're almost there. Please, please, stay with me," he whispered, voice breaking, eyes brimming with desperation.

As the car screeched to a halt outside the hospital, he wasted no time. He stepped out, carefully lifting her into his arms and rushing inside.