When the agonizing scream stopped and was replaced by a choking sound, they instantly knew something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
"Young Master!"
"Valen?" Amarein reached out her trembling hands, but stopped in dread as Valen's back arched and his body seized. His head stretched back, neck tensed and swollen, as if something was shoved inside his throat. "La-Lady D'Ara!"
"He can't breathe," the vampire frowned as she held Valen carefully. "Sweetling..."
"My Lady, I don't think the transfusion can keep up!"
D'Ara clenched her jaw--she knew; she had seen the rapid decrease of Valen's mana. The flow was so chaotic that it blocked the gates, even hindering the airways. She had to do something, or the sweetling might lose his life. Something that could stabilize the flow of mana and fill the core all at once.
