The Ides of July // Loki - Book 1 ✓

Chapter 35: Burns

TWO GUARDS DRAG ANNA back to her shared cell with Loki, her legs dragging behind her as they pull her toward the room. Loki's eyes snap up immediately, emerald eyes narrow, at the sound of the opening door. He leaps to his feet a second later, registering her physical state, and rushes toward the glass.

"Step back," Eren's voice comes through the speaker in the room.

Loki glares at him, mentally shooting daggers at the man standing by the control panel. He wagers a few steps back, impatiently waiting for the door to slide open. As soon as it does, the guards toss Anna forward and allow the door to lock shut behind her, watching carelessly as her body crumples to the floor. Eren smirks as he leaves the control panel, turning on his feet to exit the observation room followed by the guards. They are alone once more.

With his hands shackled in front of him, Loki can do little other than throw himself to the floor before the brunette. He uses one hand to grasp her waist, catching her upper body before it collides with the cold concrete. Her blue eyes flicker open, but they are hazy and unfocused as she takes in the small, barren room.

"Anna," he murmurs into her ear, holding her flush against him as he glances over her body in an attempt to find any obvious damage. "Anna, look at me."

Her eyelids slide shut momentarily, and his heart skips a beat. If she slips out of consciousness, it will be harder for him to discover the source of her injury, especially as it seems she has no apparent wound. Blue eyes peek out from underneath her long black lashes, allowing him to relax, and she warrants a glance up at him.

"I don't know," she mumbles vaguely. "I don't know where they are."

Loki's brows knit together in confusion.

"Who?" He asks her gently. "Where who is?"

She winces at whatever thought his question brings, a single tear falling from the corner of her eye, and guilt floods Loki's chest. He should have done more to protect this woman, to keep her out of their hands, but instead he let them take her. He let them hurt her, when he should have been the one subjected to torture. Rage courses through his veins, and he can hardly keep himself from shaking at the thought of them harming her.

His eyes catch a small circular burn mark on the left side of her neck that he didn't notice before. Brushing her hair to the side, he gingerly touches the skin next to the mark as he observes it. Anna jerks away from his touch, barely coherent, but he shushes her. It must be new.

"What did they do to you?" Loki says, more to himself than to the half-conscious woman in his arms.

Anna shifts against him, burying her face in the hollow at the base of Loki's neck, and he inhales sharply at the sensation of her soft breath warming his skin. Clutching her waist with his hand, he carefully pulls her with him as he stands and takes the few short steps to the cot.

Together they land on the stiff mattress as Anna begins to slip from his hand, and he carefully lowers her down. Scooping her feet up, he tucks her legs onto the cot as well before kneeling by her head. Her blue eyes meet his green ones, and another pang of remorse shoots through his chest.

Weakness, he scolds himself, brushing it off. Simply weakness.

His hands rest on the mattress, and he glances down at them to see Anna's right hand brushing against his own. Unable or unwilling to move her entire arm, she laces her index finger with his before squeezing her eyes shut to prevent another wave of tears.

"Elec-electric," Anna says, her voice breaking. "Sh-sh-shock."

Loki's eyes widen, dropping his head to the mattress so she is unable to see the fury darkening his eyes. They tortured her with electricity, meaning they were able to limit the outward damage and inflict maximum pain with minimal effort. That explains the burn, he realizes, meaning there might be others.

Searching her body, he gently twists her right arm and discovers another small circular burn in the crook of her elbow. It appears to be the only other burn on her, and he prays to the gods that he is right. He pulls his fingers from hers, reaching up and barely grazing over the mark on her arm with his fingertips. Anna inhales sharply, but she doesn't wince away at his touch, so he leans forward and presses his chilled lips against the burn.

Her eyelids flutter open as he lifts his lips from her skin, allowing his cold fingers to brush over the mark once more, soothing the burn. She stares at him, without moving, as he delicately presses his fingers against the skin inside her elbow.

"I am truly sorry," he whispers, his voice barely a hum in his chest.

Now playing: "Technicolour Beat" by Oh Wonder.

*****
Author's Note

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