Page 97 of Scorned

“I’m sorry, Luka. I don’t have a choice. I love you.”

With no time to waste, I laid the blade across my wrist and sliced it open. Tiny droplets of my blood dripped onto the steel bed, the sound reminding me of raindrops . . .

Less is more. Small raindrops bring back life while large rivers will end it.

I gasped at the witch’s words.

The raindrops were my blood. If I gave him a little, it would give him life. If I gave him a lot, it would take mine.

Ravage had said if Luka’s fangs pierced me, I’d be useless from his venom and he’d drain me dry. He never said I couldn’t give Luka my blood.

Holy shit.

I finally knew what I had to do.

With a deep breath, I placed my wrist close enough for Luka to smell my blood but not bite me. His nostrils flared, sniffing the air before his head whipped toward me. With a hiss, he opened his mouth and his fangs elongated.

Hoping to feed him and survive, I hovered my wrist above his lips, letting my blood drip into his mouth.

With every drop, his tongue trembled, then slowly became pinker. But his body still wasn’t healing. He needed a lot more than a few tiny drops of blood.

I decided maybe I could control the situation. As long as he didn’t sink his fangs into me, he could get blood faster from sucking on my wrist.

Being cautious as possible, I moved in closer, pressing my open wound against his lips, and thankfully he latched on without piercing me.

He furiously sucked, and with each ravenous gulp moans of pleasure left his nose. I did what Ravage said and counted to thirty seconds in my head as he drank, making sure he didn’t go into bloodlust. When I finally had to pull away, he groaned, and I felt terrible.

Having successfully fed him and now needing a bandage for my wrist, I took a step back from the table, sliding in something wet. When I glanced down, my eyes widened.

Against the stark white, beautifully polished marble floor, a pool of blood surrounded the doctor. The old me would’ve had a panic attack from the sight of it. The new me only had one thought.

All this blood is going to waste while Luka is starving.

Deciding I wasn’t going to let it go unused, I quickly grabbed gauze and tape off the cart and bandaged my wound, then stepped up to the body. I shimmied my hands under her armpits, attempting to pull her up, and pieces of her kept slipping out of my hands.

In every movie I’d ever seen, people lugged around dead bodies like they weren’t heavy. Dr. Bitch was only a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, which was sixty pounds less than me. I should’ve been able to lift her with ease, but her muscles had no firmness, making it near impossible. It was like trying to scoop water with a fork.

“Sage. You’re really here.”

My breath caught at the sound of Luka’s voice. “I’m coming, baby,” I whispered breathlessly, and then hoped he was too delirious to remember. I’d never called him that before . . . and it was slightly embarrassing.

After pulling and struggling for a few minutes, my arm muscles and lungs burned with the fire of Satan, causing me to almost give up. Using the last of the strength I had, I yanked her up as far as I could. She started to slouch, so I shoved the front of her chest against the table, using her boobs for leverage. Her head was hanging and I cringed when the blood seeping from her neck dripped onto my favorite boots.

Grabbing her wrist, I threw it in front of Luka’s face. “Drink.”

His eyes widened. “Did you kill her?”

“Yes, and your wounds haven’t healed, so you need more blood. Now drink.”

Sadness filled his expression and he shook his head. “It’s not your blood.”

The doc began to slip and I stuck my knee under her body to help hold her up. “If you get mad, you can feed.”

“No.” He tightened his lips into a line.

“Luka, if you don’t get mad and drink this goddamn blood, I’m going to end up on a table next to you.”

“I can’t do it. I’ve tried.”

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