I had to save her.
Everything I had done would mean nothing if she didn't survive. I was willing to sacrifice anything to prevent her death, just as I had done countless times before. It had always been for her. Her body felt unnervingly heavy in my arms. She'd always been a weight I carried—her safety, her life, her happiness—but now, every muscle strained as I cradled her limp form.
The sound of my heart thundering in my chest drowned out everything else. When I became the leader of Irisia's army, I made it my business to learn everything I could about any kingdom or species that might pose a threat to my new home and the people I cared about. I knew vampire venom was potent, especially for females, but I hadn't anticipated its devastating effects to work so quickly.
Azalea's body was cold and heavy against mine as if her life were slipping away with each passing second. I tried to keep my emotions in check, but it was fucking hard when it came to her. She had the master key to all my emotions, and over the years, it had become straight-up exhausting to keep the walls up around her. She made it easier when she treated me with the rage I probably deserved.
I had destroyed us, not her.
But I'd rather have her angry at me every fucking day, her fiery temper burning through me, than lose her. If it meant she'd let me protect her, I'd take her pretty foot with a heel pressed to my neck for the rest of my life.
One thing was certain: I would never allow her to become a vampire, let alone a bride for that bastard prince who had hurt her. Females-turned vampires—those not born—were reduced to nothing more than breeding tools destined for lives of torment and subjugation.
Azalea deserved so much more.
There was one way to take this torment away from her, but it came at a heavy price. To save her, I would have to drink her blood, erase Prince Darrin's mark, and replace it with the mating mark sacred to my people. Drinking out most of the venom would give her body a chance to fight the transition, and the mark would sever any claim that leech might try to lay on her.
If I gave her the mating mark, it would be more than symbolic—it was a powerful, permanent union of souls. It would bind us in a way that far surpassed the Dragon's Bond we had shared until now. The ritual itself carried its own dangers and consequences, but it was the only way to save her from a fate of eternal suffering.
My jaw twitched as anger coursed through me. I hadn't protected her well enough. That slimy bastard had managed to get past me and hurt her. I'd find him and kill him once she was safe, that was for damned sure. Consequences be damned. And after him, I'd deal with whoever betrayed us, leaking our plans to that bloodsucker.
Turning my thoughts back to the situation at hand, I realised time was slipping away fast–With every second she was being brought closer to a fate neither of us could stomach, and yet, the choices before us seemed impossibly narrow, neither was better than the other. The weight of desperation pressed heavily on my chest as I searched for an alternative solution, but it was clear—there was only one path I could offer her. If she even chose to take it.
I had already risked everything when I accepted the Dragon's Bond, tethering myself to a future fraught with sacrifice and peril. That decision had stripped me of freedom and hope, binding me to a curse I had taken on willingly, all for her sake. And now, this mating bond would push the boundaries of what little remained between us- if not break us entirely apart. It would test not only her trust in me but what little remained of the fragile shards of our bond.
Yet, I was ready to risk it all again, even if it meant losing what was left of us because, to me, protecting her was worth more than my own existence.
The thought of marking her this way was both incredibly daunting yet necessary. It was a stark reminder of the lengths I was willing to go to protect her, even if it meant altering the fabric of our relationship forever. The urgency of her situation left no room for hesitation.
"A mating mark will make the Dragon's Bond seem like a child's pinkie promise in comparison," Shade rumbled in the recesses of my mind, his voice a dark echo. "Should you choose that route, the results should be interesting, considering how much she already despises you."
His tone was laced with amusement, a mocking edge that only deepened my frustration.
I ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. When I came to Irisia, I'd sought freedom from my family's suffocating expectations. Instead, I'd found something far more profound–Her.
Everything I was—everything I had done, and would continue to do—was for her, whether she realised it or not.
Even if she hated me for eternity, I would accept it as long as she lived. Her happiness was worth everything, regardless of the sacrifice it took.
Regret gnawed at me, raw and relentless. If I could change that night, I would. But there was no going back, and I didn't think she would ever forgive me.
"You carry the weight of your choices poorly, boy," Shade murmured, his voice lingering like a shadow in my mind. "And yet here you are, preparing to pile on even more."
Shade's presence fed my desperation, his essence a constant push to act, to make the hard choices.
Once she gave her consent, all hesitation went out the window.
I leaned in, the primal urge to protect and claim her overtaking me. Shade surged within me, aligning his energy with mine as I bit down on her neck, erasing the mark that cowardly bastard had left.
Her blood was intoxicating—raw and powerful, laced with venom. As I drank, the venom began to retreat, her body fighting back with every greedy mouthful I took.
A dangerous word flickered across my mind, one I had absolutely no right to use with her.
Mine. Fucking mine.
The word echoed in my mind: relentless and consuming. She was mine. Always had been. It always would be. And yet…that wasn't entirely true, was it.
A low snarl reverberated through my thoughts, Shade sharing my senses. His fury bled into my own. "He was all over her," he growled.
Then the scent hit me, too. Prince Darrin's stench, vile and suffocating, clung to her. The strongest trace was between her legs.
Rage flooded through me, shattering my control. My teeth sank deeper into her neck, harsher than I intended. She let out a weak moan, her paralysis fading just enough for her to feel it.
Instant regret washed over me. I loosened my bite, gently rubbing her back to apologise without words.
"I'll make him regret even breathing near her," I vowed silently, the promise dark and absolute.
Shade's voice cut through my thoughts, low and ominous. "While this is admirable, boy, you know the cost of this bond. It is too high a price. You do not know what you're asking of me, of this girl, and of yourself."
"I didn't have a choice then, and I don't have a choice now," I snapped back in my mind, the frustration boiling over.
Shade growled. His anger is a powerful and dominating force in my mind and body. "I have lived many lifetimes, and none dared act as recklessly as you."
"Would you rather I let her die and transform into a vampire's breeding mare?" I shot back, my voice trembling with raw emotion.
Shade fell silent, but his disapproval was evident, it loomed like a dark cloud, heavy and suffocating.
Her blood tasted sweeter as the venom faded, but the weight of my actions crushed me. Her limp body pressed against mine, a haunting reminder of how close she was to death. The stakes were higher than ever. Failure was not an option, and Shade and I were in rare agreement.
"You are almost there," Shade urged, his voice dark but steady. "You will save her with just a few more pulls. Do not fail her now."
I fought through the exhaustion and nausea, clinging to the last reserves of my strength. Every ounce of energy I had left was for her.
When her head fell limp, her breaths shallow, I knew time was running out.
One more pull.
Then another.
And finally, one last gulp.
"It's enough," Shade murmured, his voice softer now, almost resigned. "She can fight the transition on her own now."
I loosened my grip on her, my arms trembling with fatigue. Her fate was no longer in my hands. All I could do now was hold her close and pray that she had the strength to come back to me.
I let out a shaky breath, the sound ragged and unsteady as it escaped my lips. My chest felt tight, my breaths uneven as though the weight of the world had pressed down on me during the agonising moments of cleansing her. Each beat of my heart reverberated through my entire body, a painful reminder of how close I had come to losing her. I cradled her closer, my arms instinctively wrapping around her fragile, near lifeless frame as if I could shield her from the torment she'd endured.
Her body was unnaturally still, unnervingly cold. The warmth she always carried—the vibrant fire that had drawn me to her—was now a faint ember, flickering perilously close to extinguishing. I whispered her name softly as though speaking it aloud could tether her to this mortal plane–to me. But no response came, only the shallow rise and fall of her chest, fragile and uncertain.
The venom was gone. I had done what I could. I had pushed my body, my will, and my very soul to their limits to cleanse her, but now, it was no longer in my hands. It was up to her to fight, to find her way back from the precipice of death.
The quiet was suffocating, filled only with the faint rustle of the ruined cottage around us and the erratic sound of my own breathing. My mind raced with thoughts of what I should do next. Should I find a healer? Should I get her somewhere safe? My instincts screamed to move, to act, but I couldn't bring myself to let go of her. Not just yet.
She felt so small in my arms, so vulnerable, and it tore through me like a blade. I tightened my grip, burying my face into the crook of her neck. Her scent lingered faintly beneath the lingering stench of venom and blood, grounding me and reminding me of who she was. Who she could still be if she survived.
I pressed my lips to her ear, my voice breaking through the silence with a soft, low murmur. "You are strong, Az. You will survive this." I said the words both for myself and for her. My voice was steady, soothing, but on the inside, I was a maelstrom of chaos and fear.
The words hung between us, a fragile thread of hope amidst the storm. Speaking them aloud felt like an act of defiance against the darkness threatening to consume her.
Her body remained limp, but I refused to believe she was gone even as her breathing shallowed and the pauses between them stretched. Not yet. Not her. Azalea was a fighter, the fiercest I'd ever known. She had faced horrors before and stood tall. She would do it again.
"Come back to me," I murmured again, my voice trembling with a vulnerability I rarely allowed myself to show anymore. The faintest breath of air escaped her lips in response, shallow and weak but enough to remind me that she was still there. Still fighting.
The weight of the moment bore down on me, heavy and unrelenting, but I refused to crumble. She needed me to be strong, to hold on to her. So I stayed there, cradling her in the shattered remnants of the cottage, waiting, hoping, willing her to come back to me.
Because without her, there was nothing. I was no one.