"A vampire killed him, Blaise. They drained him of his blood and slit his throat, before posing him on his favorite armchair for us to find," Damon elaborated.
Blaise's mouth fell open as if he wanted to speak, but no sound emerged. He gripped my hand so tightly that it was almost painful, but I would never dream of pulling away now, not when it seemed like I was the only anchor stopping him from floating away into the ocean.
Tears started to form in his eyes, and his throat bobbed soundlessly.
"I… no… but…" Blaise eventually managed to choke out, frantically rubbing his eyes with his other free hand. Grief welled up within me, its waves threatening to pull me under. It wasn't even my own grief that I was feeling, but Blaise's.
