"Did I die in your dream again?"
Atlas blinked ever so slowly, staring at the face hovering over his own. Slowly, his arms stretched toward her. He pulled her down into his arms, exhaling deeply as his hand rested on the back of her head.
Lola's brows twitched up, her head resting on his chest.
His heart…
It was racing as if he had run a full marathon. His expression remained as calm as a lake, and even though his complexion was a little pale, one wouldn't think he had just had a horrible dream. But his heart surely told her everything.
She glanced up briefly before deciding to relax her body against him. Pressing her lips into a thin line, a shallow breath escaped him.
"How did I die this time?" she asked quietly. "Did I get shot in the neck again?"
Atlas didn't answer immediately as he steadied his breathing, eyes on the ceiling.
"No," he whispered. "You were on a mission… and Scarlet was able to take your body home."
"A lot of us died?"
