“Look.” He reaches over and slowly pulls the dagger out of Cal’s chest. Blood flows freely now there’s nothing stopping it, running down either side of his chest to the ground underneath. “It should be clotting, healing, but it’s fucking not.”
He tears off his T-shirt and holds it against the wound. It’s soaked in seconds.
“What do we do?” Beth demands, trying hard not to panic, but it’s all over her.
“We do what I thought I’d have to do before Corey showed up.” I hold my hand out for the steel blade I know he carries. “Give me your knife.”
He hands it over, brow furrowed, until I hold it against my wrist and he suddenly gets what I’m going to do.
“I thought that was an urban myth.”
I slice deep enough to get the blood flowing and hold it over the wound on Cal’s chest. “For Cal’s sake, let’s fucking hope not.”
21
MORGAN
Everything hurts.
It’s the first thought that pops into my head when I wake up. Quickly followed by the realisation that I’m now wearing handcuffs like the ones Flint and Beth had on.
Also, where the fuck am I?
I remember being dragged away by Birch before he gave up and tossed me over his shoulder. I remember being thrown into the back of a van. But I must’ve blacked out, because I don’t remember much else after we left the others, and oh god,Callum.
Fuck, I hope he’s okay.
I know shifters heal, but?—
Someone bangs on the side of the van, scaring the shit out of me. “Get them out.”
I instinctively flinch, then really wish I hadn’t when pain rockets throughout my whole body. I’m left gasping for air, hands curled into fists as it ever so slowly ebbs.
Jesus Christ.
“Yeah,” a voice says from behind me, making me jump again. “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”
“Thanks,” I reply, sarcasm heavy. Fuck’s sake, I thought I was alone in here. Apparently not. Before I turn around to see who he is, the side door slides open.
It’s dark outside.
I don’t recognise where we are because all I can see are trees.
Another fucking forest.
Birch suddenly steps into view, accompanied by the other FBs from earlier. He stands off to one side and watches as the others reach into the van to drag us out. I don’t have the strength or the will to resist.
I almost blackout from the pain when they haul me to my feet.
They have to keep hold of me to keep me upright.
My head lolls forward, but hands grab my face and tilt it to the side. I don’t know who because I’ve got my eyes shut, but to be honest, I don’t fucking care. It’s not anyone I want it to be, so what difference does it make?
“He’s nearly through it,” Birch says, and I recoil as I realise it’s him touching me. I’ll swallow the pain if it means getting his hands off me. His thumb runs over the base of my throat. “The bite’s almost healed.”
A vehicle approaches and Birch drops my head so quickly, my vision swims. I sway forwards as nausea floods my system.
“Don’t you fucking dare puke,” someone hisses.
