Even though Caleb had tucked her inside the blankets ensuring that she was warm enough, fear coursed through him when after an hour of watching over her, she didn't come out of her unconsciousness and didn't show signs of healing. Panic prickled his skin like thorns. He rubbed his throat to ease the veins that stood in his neck. In order to control his raging emotions, he gasped on a choked breath. He held her hand desperately as if that was the only source of stability in his life. The irony was that it was the biggest source of worries in his life. His gaze darted to take everything else in the room, but with a racing heartbeat, all he could think of was how to help her.
The bandages he had put on her wounds were soon becoming wet with blood. What kind of poison was she stabbed with? He had just seen her blood cake and thought that the wounds started healing, but apparently, more blood was flowing.
