MARIA
They set back on course, her captor—since he still wouldn’t tell her his name—cutting at twigs for them pass. She noticed one time that even when the space had been enough for him to fit through, he’d still cleared it a bit before passing.
She suspected he did it for her.
“Shit.” He cursed all of a sudden, shoving the tip of his sword into the ground and resting on it.
“You’re tired.” She observed.
He didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to. It was glaringly obvious.
“You need to rest.”
“I don’t.” He forced out through gritted teeth. His breaths wheezed in and out through his teeth and his beautiful face was scrunched up in pain.
When she looked down, she saw that the blood stain on his trousers had spread wider. He was bleeding more, and if she had to guess, i
