Then he closes his eyes and falls.
Chelsea
Eryx lies limply on the floor. One moment he was kissing me. The next, he’s bleeding out.
Oh God. He’ll die if I don’t stop it.
“Stave! Stave!”
No answer.
“Help!”
Elmore.
I race to my nightstand and open the compact. “Elmore! Elmore!”
Please be there. God, please be there. I only just found Eryx. I can’t… He can’t…
Elmore’s face appears, his brows stitched with worry. “I’m here, Chelsea. What’s wrong?”
“I was attacked. Eryx is hurt. Bleeding. We need help.”
“Give me one minute.”
He vanishes from the mirror, and I rush back to Eryx.
Stop the bleeding, Chelsea. Stop it.
Right. I rush to my bed, yank the bedsheets off, and using my teeth, I rip a strip and press it to Eryx’s chest.
“Stay with me, Eryx. Stay. Please.”
Tears fill my eyes, but my mouth is so dry my tongue sticks to the roof.
His lips were on mine minutes ago. Claiming me. Kissing me like I was everything. And now he might die. He doesn’t get to kiss me like that and die.
I won't let it happen.
I’m panicking, adrenaline-fueled.
My back burns where the creature clawed me, but I shove the pain aside. Eryx first. I’ll deal with my wounds later.
I’m not sure how long I stay there. The sheets turn red. I replace them. They turn red again.
When it feels like help will never come, Stave rushes into the room, and I exhale a sigh of relief.
From her place at my side, Echo barks, as if asking what took him so long.
“Mistress!”
“I’m fine. It’s Eryx. He’s bleeding!”
Stave takes one look at Eryx and drops to his knees. He presses his hands to Eryx’s chest, and deep purple magic ripples out from under his palms, creeping over the wounds.
The bleeding slows to a stop. I pull the sheets back to look at the damage. The ragged edges of the deepest wounds have been knit together—not completely, but enough to stem the flow.
Stave pulls back, breathing hard. “There's magic in his injuries. I can’t purge it, but the bleeding’s stopped. He'll need rest. Days of it." Stave looks at me and frowns. “You're wounded too."
