She drove the truck into the barn, climbed out, and closed the barn door behind her. Leaning against the door, she took a deep breath as she took in the shadowy interior. The sun’s rays spilled through the slats of the walls, and dust particles danced in the air. The ladder to the loft was five feet in front of the pile of straw Declan lay on.
Willow stepped away from the door and removed the sword from the truck bed before returning to Declan’s side. Setting it into the pile of straw, she knelt beside him as she bit into her wrist and held it to his mouth.
“You have to feed,” she coaxed, but he showed no sign he heard her.
She pushed her wrist between his lips and tilted his head back. Her blood filled his mouth until he swallowed. Running her fingers over his face, she memorized the feel of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips, and the shape of his brow as she tried not to think about the possibility she might have already lost him.
He’d acted normal the last time they spoke, but the continued discoloration of his skin indicated he was far from under control.
“Stay with me,” she pleaded.
When her skin healed, she removed her wrist from his mouth and bit into it again before wedging it back between his lips. Lifting her head, she stared into the rafters and the bales of hay stacked above. On this level of the barn, three stalls lined each side; some of the doors were open, but others remained locked.
She was about to pull her wrist from his mouth to bite it again when his fangs pierced her flesh. Her relief was so profound she nearly wept when he started feeding on her.
Leaning closer to him, a few tears slid free when she pressed her cheek to his. “Come back to me.”
* * *
After Declan finished feeding,Willow knelt over him and held her breath as she waited for some sign of life. She’d given him a fair amount of her blood, but he remained unmoving. Inspecting his injuries again, she saw some of them were starting to close; unfortunately, that meant they were closing around the weapons still embedded in him.
Unable to leave the bolts in, Willow rested her hand on his shoulder and gripped one of them. Her teeth ground together as she tore it from his chest. Declan’s body followed the bolt a couple of inches off the ground before it came free, and he fell back again.
Willow groaned at the pain she’d inflicted on him, and there were still so many to go. She didn’t want to be the one who did this, but there were no other options. Fresh blood trickled from where she’d removed the bolt as her shaking hands gripped another one and pulled it free.
Judging by the location of the bolts, at least six of them had pierced organs, which was part of the reason he was struggling to heal. She’d never seen anyone sustain this much damage and keep going. The fact he’d remained conscious and fighting for so long was a miracle—one she suspected had to do with the color pulsing through him.
Willow couldn’t think about what she was doing and how much it hurt him as she methodically pulled the rest of the bolts free and tossed them into the closest stall. If she thought about it, she’d never finish her task.
When she finished, she bit into her wrist and held it to Declan’s mouth. At first, he didn’t feed again, but after a few minutes, his fangs pierced her flesh and he started draining her.
While he fed, she inspected the bullet holes. Most of the bullets had already worked their way free; the other ones were moving toward the surface. With nothing to help her dig them out, she had no choice but to let them do their own thing.
When she couldn’t take any more blood loss, she pulled her wrist from his mouth and lay in the straw beside him. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face as he lay sleeping beside her.
Resting her hand on his chest, she cherished the beat of his slower-than-normal heart. The blood seeping from his freshly reopened wounds eased, but at least this time, it wasn’t because he didn’t have enough blood in him. Instead, it was because he was finally healing again.
Exhausted, famished, and battered herself, Willow tried to stay awake, but at some point, she lost the battle and passed out.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Willow wokewith a start and bolted upright to take in her surroundings. It took her a couple of seconds to recall where she was and what happened as moonlight drifted through the cracks. Despite the arrival of night, she could see nearly as well as she did in the daytime.
She’d fallen asleep with her hand clutching Declan’s, and it remained in her grasp as she turned toward him. She’d hoped to find the color gone from his face, but it hadn’t, and he remained unconscious.
Still battered and bruised, she winced when she removed her hand from his and rose onto her knees to examine him more closely. His heart continued its sluggish beat, and blood still trickled from a couple of wounds, which meant she had to hunt.
Willow closed her eyes as she rested her hand over those injuries and willed them to heal faster. With time, he would pull through this, but they didn’t have time. She needed him healthy and capable of fighting in case the Savages found them again.
Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and rested her hand on it. “I’ll be back.”
She hated leaving him, but she had no other choice. It would take a lot longer for him to heal without blood, and she couldn’t keep supplying him if she didn’t replenish herself. That would only result in them both being too weak to fight.
Willow groaned when she pushed herself to her feet and lifted the sword from the straw. She would have cuddled up with the weapon if she wasn’t scared of accidentally cutting herself with it. She didn’t know if a small cut would be enough to turn her to ash, but she wasn’t willing to take the chance.
Though her body was healing fast, she still ached as she trudged toward the sliding door. If she hadn’t fed Declan, the man’s blood would have completely healed her by now, but she was also desperate for nourishment.
Stopping at the door, she stood and listened for any hint of something more out there, but she didn’t detect any unusual sounds, and the night smelled crisp and clean. The Savages were hunting them, but they weren’t close to this barn… Yet.
