Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,45

wrong. This isn’t just bruising."

Zeke unlocks the door and shoves it open with his shoulder, supporting me against his body. I'm growing weaker and dizzier, forced to rely on him.

"Sit."

I try to obey his command but when I place my backside on his bed, I topple over onto my back. The pain jars through me again from my head to my toes and I gasp out as Zeke touches my chest on the left-hand side, around my ribs, and pained tears squeeze from my eyes.

"Shit."

He kneels beside me and wipes a hand down his mouth. Above me, the uncovered lightbulb hangs down, barely lighting the room as the world around me spins and darkens.

"Eloise." Zeke's voice is distant.

I turn my aching head. "I don’t feel good."

"Promise me, if this doesn’t work that you'll let me take you to the infirmary." I open my mouth to protest. "I'll fucking carry you over my shoulder through the academy if you refuse. I think you're bleeding internally."

"That wouldn’t help if I was. And how do you know?" I croak out. I'm too tired to panic, closing my eyes again.

"I sense it." Vague shuffling noises edge my consciousness and somebody unbuttons my shirt.

"Get the fuck off me, Ivan," I yell and strike out at the hands, but my weak arms barely move.

"Who's Ivan?" asks Zeke as his face flickers into view.

"What are you doing?"

"Eloise. Trust me. My only touch will be to help you."

I swallow and the pain is so bad I'm willing to let him. "You can help?"

"I hope so." Zeke rubs his hands together and mutters something beneath his breath as he stares down at them. He pauses, then repeats the mumbled words.

"Fuck!" His sudden shout drills into my mind. "Come on, fucking spirits. You brought me claws, now bring me healing."

In exasperation, Zeke drags his shirt over his head and throws it to one side.

Am I hallucinating again? White stripes shine across his skin matching the tattoos on his arms. No. Not tattoos. These are scars. A black symbol also half-covers his chest—a spiral circle with the centre over his heart.

The scars shine in the dim and cover his whole body, and I'm shocked that they’re not random, but in zig zag patterns.

He seems oblivious to my staring as he rests his fingers in the centre of the tattoo, head bent forward. His arms shake and I turn away, fighting the oblivion beckoning me.

"You're angry," I mumble. "I sense it."

"You sense the spirits?" he asks.

"The energy." My words slur. "Anger won’t heal."

"Shit, you’re right." Zeke takes a shuddering breath and his face dances in and out of view. "You're right," he repeats.

His hands press lightly on my chest, palms spreading across my skin as he moves them until he reaches the tender point. His touch doesn’t soothe, and I scream out. "Zeke, stop." I writhe against him and he holds me to the bed by the shoulder with one hand.

"I can feel this working," he says. "Trust me."

An acid-like stinging courses through my veins and I'm seized by a pain unlike anything I could ever imagine. Is this how our kind torture humans? Because I'm paralysed and unable to cry out again.

Zeke looks down at me, sliding his hands to stroke my hair. "I promise this will help. Death is creeping inside you and your life force is fighting back; I can help grow that force."

His words seize hold of my aching heart and his mouth moves as he says more, but my ringing ears deafen me. The last thing I see before I pass out is Zeke's gentle smile.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Breath rushes into my lungs as if I've surfaced from water and my eyelids flicker open. I'm in a room, lying on a bed, covered by a thick blanket. My body glows with warmth as if I've had the best sleep in weeks, soothed and energised.

The room appears similar to mine—only one bed, but the same dresser and no floor covering. A painted picture of a mountainous landscape spans the chipped wall opposite the bed, adding colour to the drab surroundings.

Zeke sits on the floor beneath the picture, head resting against the wall, watching me through his bright amber eyes. He’s dressed in jeans but his chest and feet are bare. "Something weird is happening, Eloise," he mumbles. "Something dangerous."

A rush of memories knock the comforted feeling from inside me. I sit and the blanket falls away, revealing my bare skin and open shirt.

Ethan.

The kiss.

The girls.

The pain.

Zeke.

His hands.

"You didn’t need the