Graves saw the bleeding wound; it was not something her saliva could fully heal, and he was losing too much blood. Her hands trembled, and sweat dripped from her face.
Seeing her panic, Lucas slowly caressed her furrowed brows. "Don't worry, I won't die from this little wound. I haven't marked you yet." A weak smile crossed his lips.
"Yes, you're not allowed to die. Bear with it. I'll take you out of here." Graves's eyes were firm, her words steady despite her trembling hands.
The sound of approaching men echoed through the hallway. Her fingernails grew into claws. She leaned down and kissed him deeply, then pulled away, locking eyes with him.
"Wait for me. I'll be right back." She whispered before disappearing.
Seconds later, Lucas heard the sounds of gunfire and the screams of men. The noise continued for a few minutes before silence fell.
