Free Twin Flames by Elizabeth Winters Page A

horror as blood poured free, pooling on the floor.
    Isabelle pulled the blade from the wound and slipped it back into her pocket, not bothering to wipe off the blood. She slipped her foot behind Raven’s knees and knocked her to the floor. “You’re better off dead. No one wants you here, not even Devlin. If it wouldn’t kill him, he’d send you back through that godforsaken hole and save us all the agony of your presence. The gods will applaud me for taking your life.”
    Raven curled up into a fetal position, trying to stifle the bleeding. Pain pounded into her like rain, taking her breath away. She pictured Devlin in her head, mentally calling to him. Too weak to scream, she watched the blood slide across the floor and down the slight slant in the hallway.
    She didn’t want to die.
    Devlin was almost to his chamber when he heard the scream. The shrill cry tore at his heart.
    Raven.
    Mindless, he raced toward the sound, pushing all barriers from his path. He would not think the worst, she was probably fine, just frightened.
    His blood froze as he turned the corner and saw her crumpled body leaning against the chamber door. Blood, the color of rich wine, lay in a puddle beneath her, stark red against the white crystal.
    She wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t allow it.
    He knelt beside her, feeling her weak pulse. “Raven, talk to me,” he pleaded, careful not to move her, yet wanting to scoop her into his arms.
    She stared up at him, her eyes bright with pain. “She stabbed me.” She tried to look down at the wound, but flinched at the slightest movement.
    Hatred froze Devlin’s heart. Who would dare hurt the woman he cherished? His first thought was of the Council, but he quickly pushed it aside. Their methods had never been cloaked in secrecy. They preferred the people to be fully cognizant of their acts of cruelty.
    “Isabella.”
    He could barely make out the name as Raven’s voice faded to near silence. Isabella. Chalice’s whore. He would kill the witch.
    Pushing past his rage, he ripped off his tunic to bind the wound before tenderly lifting her into his arms. The castle guard had been alerted by her scream, and now they swarmed around them like useless insects.
    Ignoring their failed attempts to render assistance, he pushed open the chamber door and carried Raven inside to the bed. She was so pale and lifeless. Blood seeped through his makeshift bandage, soaking into the coverlet.
    He would make sure she healed first, but then he would kill the whore responsible. Let the Council try and stop him.
     
    The light was too strong. It swarmed around Raven, circling her aching body, forcing her to open her weary eyes. Why wouldn’t it leave her alone, let her slip back into the welcome abyss?
    “Damn you, open your eyes.”
    Devlin. What was he doing here? She stared up at him, pain flooding through her wound as she tried to sit. His dark face loomed above her, eyes full of anger and worry. Something was obviously wrong, she just couldn’t remember…
    She flinched as a cold hand slipped across her torn stomach. It stopped on her wound.
    “She still lives, but the wound is deep. Infection may set in if we don’t cauterize it.”
    She wanted to scream, but her throat wasn’t working properly. No one cauterized wounds anymore. It wasn’t the Middle Ages.
    “She will not die. Do what you have to do.” Devlin’s voice was harsh. She wanted to grab him when he reached down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, but her limbs were incapable of movement. “If she dies, I will have your head and that of the whore who did this.”
    Raven ignored the argument. She was too busy worriedly listening to the poker as it stirred the fireplace. Surely they wouldn’t…
    Devlin’s hand grasped hers as the other man slipped a piece of leather between her teeth. “Hold on, baby. This is going to hurt, but just hold on.”
    Pain sizzled into her flesh. Oblivion threatened, but she fought it with all she had, concentrating