There’s a sound like a wind whistling and a streak of color over the ground between here and our camp—and then Lucien is here, too, bending over Venna as well. His face is grim. Elias is in the background, his face set in an equally dire expression.
Venna’s eyes are bloodshot. Her face is going pale and ghostly. She’s making sounds like she’s trying to breathe but can’t get the air past the wound in her wolf’s throat.
Her wolf is gurgling, her eyes unseeing.
“Skaia is holding on,” Anassa whispers.“For her.”
For her goodbye. Agony tears through me, my every nerve in pain.
“M—” Venna tries, eyes tracking me.
I collapse next to her, tears burning on my cheeks as I hold her face. “Don’t talk. It’s okay. Hey. It’s okay.”
Her lips move, but no sound emerges. My body runs cold and hot and I start to shake.
“No. Venna,no,” I say, beg, cry.Not you, too.
We didn’t have enough time. We were just starting to forge a deep friendship all our own. Venna, who has no trouble calling me out. Venna, wry and smart. Venna, who already faced the worst thing she could and stunned me with her courage to keep moving on.
Why?
Her hand leaves her throat. A tear spills from her eye. She won’t stoplookingat me. Reaching, I realize. I take her hand and sob.
“Stay with us,” I say over the bond in desperation.“Don’t leave me.”
A gentle emotion drifts through our fraying bond. Small, quiet.
Love.
“Meryn.” Lucien’s voice. I push it aside, going deeper into the bond, searching for Venna’s spark there, where it’s fading so fast. Following it down into the darkness.
I can’t let her go—
A hand slams into my shoulder. I tumble backward, losing the connection to Venna. Lucien’s startling strength knocks me flat.
“Let me,” his voice comes urgent.
I watch, shocked, as his hands close around Venna’s throat. He touches her chest, then, right above her heart.
Then he lifts his wrist to his mouth andripsinto it with his fangs. A chunk of his flesh comes away, and his blood bursts from the wound and spatters over her chest. I watch, drifting away from myself. I watch Lucien hold his bloody wrist to her mouth.
My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he’s offering her.
“Drink,” he orders.
But she turns her head to the side, resisting with her last strength, fear in her eyes.
“Venna, please,” I beg her. But I don’t know what I’m asking for. To drink? Or to stay strong and refuse, even as it costs her her life?
What would I choose if given the chance? Death? Or—
Venna turns her head and looks at her wolf. She looks to her for counsel.
Skaia’s eyes are closed, her breath fading. She can’t help Venna now.
They’ll both be gone in seconds.
No.I want so badly for her to stay. Venna deserves a long, full life. It’s not my choice to make though, and my pulse starts to pound behind my eyes.Choose, Venna, choose.
