It didn’t take long for Hadrian to return. It took longer to get Jes up into the back of the cart. She screamed in pain at every movement. By the time she was loaded up, the pair of harness horses were extremely agitated by the sounds from behind them.

“Are you sure we should move her?” Rock asked Hadrian.

The orckin shook his head. “I think we should not.” He admitted and then paused, idly tapping one of his fangs as he tried to find the right words. “I think moving her is a terrible idea.” He admitted at length, Rock’s frown only growing deeper. “I feel that leaving her here would be a worse idea. The Empire will not hesitate to grab more territory in this chaos and we are close enough to be within that grab.”

Jes was panting and sweaty in the back of the wagon. She wasn’t sure what part of her hurt the worst, her insides or her outsides. She almost wished to return to blessed unconsciousness. “Home.” She croaked, trying to impress upon them some urgency.

The men stopped talking, Hadrian looking toward her with his expression tense with worry. “Scream if it is too much for you.”

She nodded, laying back on the floor of the cart, a couple of blankets beneath her to pad the hard wood. Even the rocking of the wagon as Hadrian and Rock climbed up into it was painful. She knew this ride was going to be a nightmare, but she clenched her teeth and tightened her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms, nearly drawing blood. They tried to avoid uneven terrain, tried to make the ride as gentle as possible, the pain was still unbearable. Jes lost consciousness before they had gone a mile.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

----------------------------------------

She came to on the couch in the living room of her childhood home, her head rested on her mother’s soft lap and her mother’s hands were gently combing through her brown curls. “Ma.” Her voice still sounded more like a croak than words, but at least she no longer tasted blood every time she spoke.

A sad smile flashed across her mom’s lips and the golden brown eyes she met with her own carried more than a little melancholy. “Jes.” She closed her eyes for a moment, tears gathering on her dark lashes. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Me too.” The pain was still there, as was the scent of burnt flesh. Her injuries were bad, but if she had lived this long, she was probably going to live through it entirely. Hopefully, for her mother’s sake. “M’okay. Promise.” Words were still hard to form, despite no longer filling her mouth with blood.

Her mother’s gentle hands soothed her brow again. “I know, sweetie. Just be still and rest. The boys can handle whatever they need to handle for now. You just rest.”

“Bad?”

“Yes. There’s looting and rioting in town.”

Jes winced. “Bad.”

“Don’t you worry about it for now. We’ll be fine. Those boys will take care of everything for now, until you’re better.”

It hurt more when she nodded her head, but this time she closed her eyes and gave up consciousness, rather than having it taken from her.