Relief partially filled me, but it wasn’t enough to erase the distress. Dropping by his side, André took over healing Bjørn.
Dante just stood there, staring at Bjørn in shock. As if it was impossible thatanythingwas capable of leaving the dark side of him in that perilous state.
Apparently, there was.
“Dante, snap out of it!” I barked, my heart slamming against my chest.
Swiftly giving me his attention, he knelt in front of me.
“Dad’s not drinking. Help me.” I watched my blood fill my dad’s mouth until it dripped out of one side, forcing me to pull away.
Closing his eyes, Dante began an ancient chant, placing his hands above my dad’s chest. Magic exuded from him, helping wake him up. Within a few seconds, my dad’s mouth closed, swallowing the mouthful of my blood even when he coughed.
Thankfully, when my wrist returned to his lips, he began to drink on his own. His startled gaze suddenly lifted toward me.
“It’s okay. My blood can help you heal, like Mom’s and André’s does. Just drink.”
Trusting me, he slowly nodded.
I watched my dad’s wounds begin to close, although it happened too slowly for comfort. There were so many and so strange. What looked like a mix between a bruise and a burn repeated down several parts of him, and the way the edges of his skin were ragged, the cuts so deep… I’d never seen anything like it.
Were they caused by a weapon or evil magic?
Doubling the effect of his healing shadows, Dante left one hand on him and placed the other on Bjørn’s chest to help mend them both.
My attention shifted, noticing Bjørn was recuperating much faster. I almost asked if my blood wasn’t enough, but I instantly stopped myself. If it weren’t enough, our enemy wouldn’t want to drain me and use it to wake one of the most dangerous Vampiri Ancients, so he could make humans submit to him and rule over the world.
I focused on my dad, taking a settling breath, and smiling at him when he was strong enough to hold my other hand to his chest. It was finally working.
The door opened again, and Hannes rushed in, placing Isis on the ground, next to her mate. He’d carried her here to help her reach him faster.
Tears escaped her when she saw Bjørn, her trembling hand swiftly reaching for his and lifting it to her chest.
“You are almost healed,” she assured, but instead of relief, dread and urgency captured his expression.
“Turned… a-another,” he muttered, letting go of André’s wrist, but my mate brought it down again, silently insisting he continued drinking.
“Another what?” Isis frowned.
“Turned—” A fit of coughing seized him.
“Drink first, speak later.” Isis nodded encouragingly, masking the worry coursing through her.
With a weak nod, Bjørn obeyed. Within a few minutes, the light returned to his eyes, and he transformed back into a man. His hair went from slate gray to golden blond, except it was matted to his head with blood on one side. Glancing up, he took a deep breath, as if life was returning to him.
We all exchanged a frightful glance. What could have possibly hurt them both like this?
None of us had the answer.
Dad abruptly tried to move, and I realized my blood had finally overcome the worst of it. Or so I thought…
Lucidity returned, and he reached for one of the wounds in his chest, pulling out a long, twisted claw from his heart, and tossing it aside.
It looked remarkably like Bjørn’s claws when he was the dark side of him.
“Did they make you fight each other?” Isis asked, dismayed, while the rest of us shared her shock. She was referring to the power bands the Vampiri assholes wore to replicate abilities. “Was it compulsion they used?”
My dad shook his head when Dante helped him sit up, but he pulled my arm with him and continued drinking. I was happy to give him as much as he needed.
