Ave's hands trembled as she grabbed his arm, draping it around her neck. She wrapped her right arm around his waist, attempting to hoist him up. His weight barely shifted, and with a frustrated grunt, she fell back down again.
"Good god, Lucian, what do they feed you? You eat well while you starve me, you selfish bastard," Ave growled, shooting him a glare from the corner of her eye. She shoved his heavy arm back around her neck and braced herself, straining to lift him once more.
"Gah!" Her frustrated growl echoed louder than his pained groans. He was heavier than he looked—solid muscle. "For a man who's supposedly dying, you're built like a bloody tank!" she muttered, giving another heave, this time managing to drag him to his feet.
