Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 353

But that was the thing about this one chunk of rock—jam it in tight, and it’d hold back the rest of the landslide.

The only catch? Now Sylvia was stuck inside, too.

Their only way out was blocked.

Even after making sure they were—at least for the moment—safe, Sylvia didn’t relax. Instead, she spun around and glared daggers at the man sprawled half-upright on the ground.

“Why didn’t you move? You lied to me! You—”

Sylvia’s hand shot up, ready to slap him, but froze midway.

That’s when she finally noticed Rupert’s leg, pinned and bloodied, a crimson pool spreading under him.

Her anger crumbled, tangled up with guilt and confusion.

Rupert’s face was unreadable as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look away. “Didn’t hit the bone. Just a nasty cut.”

Sylvia yanked her face free and glared at him, eyes rimmed red. “Why are you always like this? You slap me, then hand me a cookie! Am I supposed to thank you? God, I hate you sometimes!”

Rupert’s hand hovered in the stale air between them, then dropped. He said nothing.

The old mine was pitch dark; she couldn’t see his expression, not really.

Sylvia turned away and crouched by his injured leg to check the wound.

He was right—no broken bones. But the gash looked agonizing, and not a sound had escaped him.

She bit her lip, tore off the sleeve of her undershirt, and wiped away the dirt and blood before tying it tight around his leg.

The bleeding slowed, but with a wound that big, if they didn’t get help soon, infection was inevitable.

With the first aid done as best she could, Sylvia curled up at the far edge of the cave.

Across the darkness, Rupert’s voice rumbled. “Come here.”

Sylvia pressed her lips together, refusing to budge.

Rupert’s brow furrowed as he tried to sit up; the effort made his leg ooze blood again.

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