Page 53 of Immortal Burden

But he just eyed me wearily, his eyes beginning to close.

He was too weak to move in any way.

I released him, wracking my brain for an alternate solution. Ingesting my blood was clearly not going to work swiftly enough. He was moments away from death. He needed instant relief.

An idea hit me.

I sped into his kitchen, rifling through his cupboards with burst after burst of vampire speed until I located what I needed. A Guardian first-aid kit. All members were provided them, tailored to their specific species. Fortunately, when I opened his, I found what I needed.

A pack of medical syringes.

I plunged one into my arm and drew my blood, filling the entire thing.

In my mind’s eye, I could feel his pulse from the living room slowing to a crawl. He was on the verge of dying. Any moment now.

Bursting back into the room, syringe in hand, I moved to his wound. “My apologies. This will hurt a great deal.”

I thrust it directly into his femoral artery, pushing down on the plunger and releasing my blood directly into the wounded area.

He roared in agony, his body jerking wildly.

And then he went lax, his eyes closing.

I waited with bated breath, every second passing like minutes, my panic barely contained.

Finally, I watched as my blood wove his artery back together, sealing the horrific wound.

I listened to his pulse, smiling when I heard it return to its normal rate.

The wound closed completely. “Hell’s demons,” I breathed, slumping back with relief.

He would be fine.

No thanks to his extreme recklessness and absolute disregard for his own life.

Not only that, which was bad enough. He had ignored my wishes outright, endangering the both of us, his thoughts only of the immediate goal and none whatsoever to the overarching consequences.

He was young by supernatural standards, much younger than me. And that immaturity and limited experience had really shown through.

His battle with Cornelius had been no exception.

I’d been within hearing range for the majority of their fight, able to both hear and feel their brutal power exchange. Ryker’s approach had been wholly reactive, lacking any sort of strategy. He’d even dropped his guard when the storm had hit, allowing it to distract him, which had given his opponent a significant upper hand. I doubted very much that the Maven Coven would have neglected to school him in proficient battle tactics, so it had to be his own refusal to apply what he had learned, him favoring to do things his way, devoid of rules.

It was dangerous and foolish. And with Draco coming, it could very well mean his end.

We all had to be the best versions of ourselves.

His actions tonight had nearly compromised my ability to achieve that.

He’d aggravated my bloodlust despite my warnings.

It was something that had taken me great pains and many years to control. But it always plagued me. It always would. It was why I avoided certain things that I knew would trigger it to spiral out of my control.

But Ryker hadn’t respected any of that.

It posed a serious problem.

And it wasn’t something I could simply let go.

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