Kee burst through the infirmary door with a violent kick—wood slamming against the wall hard enough to rattle the shelves of potions and bandages. The impact echoed down the empty corridor outside.
"Please—save her!" he shouted into the room, voice cracking with raw desperation. Amelia lay limp in his arms—bridal carry, head lolled against his chest, scorched uniform in tatters, blood still smeared across her forehead and trickling from her nose. Her long brown ponytail had come completely undone; loose strands clung to her sweat-and-soot-streaked face. The short skirt was ripped high up one thigh, exposing the deep red handprint he'd left in the tunnel—now ringed with angry burns. Her full C-cup breasts rose and fell shallowly beneath the shredded blouse, white bra visible through the gaps, skin mottled with bruises and scorch marks.
"Ohh…" came a sultry, surprised drawl from the far side of the room.
Kee's head snapped toward the voice.
