The Bell of Freedom (King and human romance)✔

Chapter Eighteen

It's been thirty minutes since Jackson was collected and taken from me and I already feel his absence horribly. I bite on my nail as I worry about his safety. Even though I know Christian will protect him, I still feel like I should be with him. Like I should never leave him again.

I told Christian not to bother making me any dinner. After hearing about Wendy, the last thing I have is an appetite. I get changed into my night clothes, deciding to have an early night, and I just get into bed when the door bursts open.

"What the hell?" I demand.

Christian charges in carrying Wendy in his arms. She groans something as he spins and kicks the door closed with his foot. "You don't have a lot of time. A few minutes maybe, before her owner comes looking for her." Christian carries her over to the bed and places her beside me.

"You stole her?" I say.

"You wanted to say goodbye, right?" he says. "Other guards saw me carrying her up here, make it quick. I'll be back in ten."

"Christian," I call, but he leaves.

"Aurora," a weak and soft voice calls. "Is that you?"

I sit on the bed, crossing my legs as Wendy turns her face over on the pillow. Her skin is so pale and sickly, the veins in her arms bright and colourful. She starts coughing and I reach over and take her hand.

"I'm here," I say.

"I can't. . . breathe," she says, beginning to choke.

"Here." I place the pillow behind her back and I push her up the headboard so that she's sitting a little straighter. "Is that better?"

She nods, her dim eyes glancing over me with a small smile. "I need you to do something for me. I don't want you to be afraid."

"Anything," I whisper.

"Place that pillow. . . over my face."

I stare down at the extra pillow beside my hand. I shake my head as I look back to her, my legs beginning to tremble as I realize her meaning.

"Please," she says. "He's going to kill me. . . tonight."

Tears stream down my face and I shake my head through my silent cries. "No."

"Aurora," her soft voice becomes a little harder. "It's not murder. It's euthanasia. You are saving me."

"Why me?" I cry.

"Because he won't punish you for doing it," she whispers. "You're the only one that can. He'll be here any moment, please, please. I am begging. . . you."

I cry harder as I pick up the soft pillow, my fingers squeezing around the edges. I've thought about doing this to the children a million times, to set them free, to let them pass peacefully and not in pain, but I've never been able to do it. I have to do it now. I have to.

"Thank you," she says. "I hope you find freedom too." Those are her last words as she closes her eyes and smiles to herself.

"You are an amazing person, Wendy," I cry. "I hope your soul finds its way to peace."

My hands tremble as I push the pillow against her face. I have to tighten it as her body jolts with fight, with an instinct to live. Her hand raises and touches my arm but a few seconds later it lowers as her life ends. I remove the pillow, looking upon her still and lifeless face.

"I'm sorry," I cry.

I don't stop crying. Not even when the door is kicked open and her owner stands in the doorway with a deadly look of anguish. His eyes stare at her and then at the pillow in my hand. His teeth snarl and he takes a vicious step in my direction, only to fall to his knees a moment later as he clenches his chest in pain.