*Tatum* I watch in horror as the oath retaliates against Maverick’s rigid body. This time is worse, so much worse, as it seems to hold him in its grips longer. I try to talk to him, my hands rubbing over his heated skin, but I’m not sure if I am making it worse or better. I contemplate running for the healer, or maybe Artemis, to help, but leaving him is an impossible task. Not when he is so vulnerable. “Mav,” I whisper, leaning close to his ear. “Breathe through it. You can do it,” I feel like a damn idiot cheering on a sports team in the last minutes, but what the hell does one say in this situation? I doubt that there is a handbook for me to learn from. So I press my palm to his head, a sigh releasing from his clenched jaw, and I exhale, relieved to have some response even if it’s not a verbal one. “I’m still here, Mav.” I tell him, leaning over him and pressing my forehead to his. I dare not touch my naked body to his flesh for fear of what it could do to him, so instead I
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