“You don’t get to give up.”

Something scaly brushed my thigh. I clawed at nothing. Slammed my head into the base of the coffin.

“You’re stronger than this.”

Tiny legs, skittering across my cheek. I brushed away…nothing.

“Let me tell you a story.”

I shouldn’t hear his voice. His voice shouldn’t comfort me. But in the darkness, he was here. The man I loved. The man I’d never doubt, because he’d saved me, again and again. He’d fought by my side. He’d given me a life when all I’d had was…nothing.

Part of me had loved him the first time he’d forced me to eat, but I’d truly given him my heart when he’d found a way to take me out of that cell with a fantasy, a place he’d finally brought me to for real, but couldn’t compare to the oasis I’d needed so much when death was the only escape from another day in hell.

There was no way to know how long I’d been in this coffin, buried deep in the earth. So deep that I couldn’t even shift the lid. Screaming and crying had stolen my voice. My hands had healed only for me to tear them up again, but I couldn’t recall what I’d been trying to do. There’d been no plan. No thought. I’d been like an animal, ready to chew its own leg off to be free.

Losing myself had been a small blessing, because I couldn’t remember making those deep grooves in the wood I could feel now as I ran my hand along the walls of the coffin. I couldn’t remember bleeding so much that the scent of my blood tainted the air and I could feel flecks of it dried to every inch of my skin.

His voice had brought me back. But I was still alone.

He wasn’t looking for me.

He probably didn’t even know I wasn’t in my cell anymore.

Maybe he wouldn’t care, but the voice I heard was from the man I’d known would always fight for me. A man I’d give my life for. He was the one I needed to listen to if I was ever going to get out of here.

I continued brushing my fingers along the side of the coffin. There! The head of a nail. I worked my fingernail under it, tugging, wincing as my nail began to tear.

“Think, Lydia!”

“I’m trying to!” I growled, envisioning Daederich lifting his brow and folding his arms over his chest, looking at me the way he did when I was being stupid. “I’d like to see you get out of a fucking coffin.”

He’d probably smirk at that. For all I knew, he’d done it already. In half the time.

“Yeah, well someone give the man a fucking medal.” I sucked my teeth, which wiped the smile right off his lips. He hated when I did that.

Yep, I’m losing my fucking mind.

The nail would give me a way to weaken the wood. The planks were too thick to punch or kick through, even with supernatural strength. Well, my supernatural strength anyway. An older immortal could probably split them with a single punch, but I had a few decades to go before I’d have that kind of power.

Running my hands down my body, my fingers touched the zipper on my boots. Perfect! I twisted one tab, but it broke loose much too easily. The metal on my jeans zipper was stronger. I couldn’t break it off, but I quickly shed my boots and jeans, holding the end of the zipper tab and digging into the wood around the nail. When there was enough space, I pried the tab between the wood and the nail, tugging the nail up, bit by bit.

I’d almost given up on the damn thing when it came out enough to wiggle free. Palming the nail, I lay back down, pressing my eyes shut and steadying my breaths. There was no air in the coffin. I didn’t need it. But breathing fast brought panic closer and I had to fight it. Breaking out of the coffin would take awhile, but I would get out.

Those words played on repeat in my mind as I used my boot and the nail to make a line of holes in the wood, close together, in one thick plank of wood. There were at least a hundred holes by the time I was done. My head spun and my stomach clenched, all my veins tight from lack of blood. I wouldn’t have the energy to keep moving soon.

Around me, the walls seemed closer. Another deep breath. I drove the heel of my palm into the holes.

“Harder!”

I shouted as I hit it again, hearing his voice with mine. The wood splintered, cutting into my palm. Dirt spilled into the coffin. I pushed it toward my feet, turning my head as damp earth covered my face. The dirt came faster. I shoved at the wood until there was enough space for me to sit up.

Once I was out of the box, the loose earth was easy to dig through. I stood, reaching up until I felt the opening…

Searing pain. I yanked my hand back, trying to spit the dirt out of my mouth.

The sun was up. I couldn’t climb out now.

And the coffin was filled with dirt.

Forcing my arms up in front of my face, I did my best to pack up the dirt around me. The earth pressed against me, holding me tight, even worse than the walls of the coffin.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was soothing. I could almost feel him, holding me, whispering. “I’m so fucking proud of you. This will be over soon.”

“Tell me…” A sob locked my throat. I spit out another mouthful of dirt. “Tell me that story again. Romeo and Juliette. I love the way you tell it. Reading the real version fucking sucked.”

His laughter made it easier to forget I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. That no one would come if I screamed. That if I freaked out and tried to escape my grave now I’d be burned alive.

He told me the story, exactly as he had so long ago, in the cell we’d shared.

Then I heard him calling my name.

“Lydia!”

He couldn’t be out there, could he? Had the sun set?

I carefully pushed my fingers through the dirt.

A hand closed around mine, pulling. The pressure around me disappeared. I collapsed on the grass, coughing out dirt, too weak to stand. A cool breeze brushed against me. My whole body shook.

I was free.

Finally free.

“Lydia, look at me.” Hands cupped my cheeks. Brushed dirt off my face. “I searched for you for days. I could destroy her for what she did to you.”

Oh, that would be nice. I smiled. “We can destroy her together.”

“Hush. I can’t protect you if she hears you speaking that way.” Soft lips pressed to my forehead. “But she won’t come near you again, I promise.”

He cradled me in his arms and I rested my head against his chest as he carried me. This wasn’t Daederich.

Daederich wouldn’t have come for me. But Cyrus had. He might have found me if I’d stayed in the coffin a little longer. He was the one holding me. Whether I liked it or not, he was the only one who could keep me safe.

“But you freed yourself, Lydia. Don’t forget that. Don’t you dare fucking forget.”