Vyan stood outside the ward of the old medical facility, his heart a storm of emotions battering against his ribs. Blood from his own injuries mixed with mud and dirt, soaking into his clothes.
"Why did you protect me…" he murmured, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Each inhale was a struggle against the crushing weight of his guilt.
He stared at the ward door, willing it to open, willing someone to come out and tell him that Iyana would be alright. The image of her lying motionless flashed before his eyes, her body broken and battered, and a fresh wave of anguish surged through him.
She had thrown herself in harm's way—purely out of instinct—to protect him, and now she lay fighting for her life because of her sacrifice.
"I should have been the one to protect you." His hands trembled as he clenched his fists, trying to keep himself together.
