"It's going to be okay," I tell her, picking her up like she weighs nothing, like she's light as a feather. I don't want her to feel like she's an invalid, like she can't do it herself but this will be faster. She's in so much pain and, unless I call the healers to come here, we're not going to make it there quickly when she's hurting so badly.

The screams cut at him, rip his insides to shreds and I want so desperately to be able to do more than just carry her to the healers. I want to be the one to help, not someone else.

When she's in my arms, I press a kiss to her forehead and tell her, "I love you. It's going to be okay."

All I have are words. All I can do it try and reassure her. With her in my arms, I shoulder open the door and start walking, falling into a brisk pace that I hope gets us there quick.