“Daddy,” the words felt foreign in my mouth, but it was him and every emotion I’ve felt over the last ten years came pouring out. I felt like I could cry for years. It was like the anger rolled off of me and all I wanted was my dad back. “It’s you,” I sobbed as he approached.

“Wren,” he called. “Are you okay?”

I found myself unable to turn away from him. This could all be a hallucination from the blood loss, but my brain was telling me that it wasn’t. My father was here and for what reason, I don’t know.

He was beside me in no time. I could see him sneaking glances at Jay’s lifeless body as he slipped one of his arms under my legs and the other behind my back. He picked me up like I weighed nothing.

I didn’t know what to think, everything was so confusing. Why was he here? How did he know where I was? And then it hit me. My eyes immediately shifted to the trench coat he was wearing. It was him, he was the one following me. He knew where I was this whole entire time. Then the sobbing came again.

“Where were you?” I cried into his shoulder as he carried me out of the room. “You weren’t there for me, daddy!”

“Calm down Wren. I’ve already probably alerted the others. I’ll explain everything later,” he gave me a concerned look as he walked down the hall. It was dark and cold, too cold, like a freezer. He was slow in carrying me but not once did he try to put me down. A few time I saw him wince.

The darkness didn’t bother me, it was the coldness. It gnawed at open wounds and into my bones. I could see my breath. “Cold,” I shivered in my father’s arms.

He looked down at me and frowned, “you’ll be okay once I get you out of here. Just old on.”

Those words rang in my head over and over again. I remember him saying that when the rogues intruded into our territory and almost wiped us out completely, when I thought he and my mother wad dead. I felt like I couldn’t. I couldn’t just hold on anymore. I wanted it all to end and if it was with my death then I was ready.

My wounds weren’t healing fast enough. And the coldness was coming in faster. I kept thinking that he might not be able to save me. If anything, by the time we get out of here, I’ll have completely bled out.

“Just let me die,” I sobbed again. “I’m not going to make it,” I looked into his eyes. I wanted him to know I was serious. It may already be too late. I couldn’t feel half of my body and the numbness was spreading. My lips quivered as I spoke. “I can’t hold on anymore,” I swallowed, “just leave me here.”

He didn’t look at me this time. He continued to walk even with the approaching sounds of footsteps. “I don’t want you ever say that again! All of this isn’t for nothing. You have to hang on Wren. I didn’t raise a quitter.”

“You didn’t raise me period,” I replied, hoping he would decide to just let me go but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to be there then, but I’m here now. And there is no way in hell I am letting you go again.”

I pushed myself further into his chest, breathing in his scent. It had been so long since I’ve been this close to him that I nearly forgot what he looked like. Once the rogues attacked, they burned our homes and everything we owned down to the ground. I didn’t have their pictures to remember their faces.

Darkness over took me and I remembered things flashing in and out like old films. I remember being at the bottom of stairs and then coming down another hallway the next. I remember hearing footsteps and faint voices and then I remember feeling warmth. Warmth that reached my very soul and then nothing.

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