Page 84 of Blood Freed

“No, no, no…” I pull her closer, cradling her ruined body against my chest. “Mia, please…”

She feels so fragile in my arms, like she might disintegrate at any moment. Reaching through our connection, I sense only the faintest flicker of life.

“How touching.” Lucien’s laughter echoes through the church. “I must admit, I didn’t think you’d make it through those flames. The power of true love, perhaps?” His voice is slick with mockery. “Though it seems it wasn’t quite enough to save her, was it?”

“You evil fucking bastard!” I roar, but my attention snaps back to Mia as her charred lips move.

“I’m…sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath.

My chest constricts, and suddenly, I’m thrown back three hundred years. Another witch dying in my arms, her flesh blackened by flames. Ingrid’s blue eyes had stared up at me just like this, filled with the same pain, the same apology. I’d stood frozen then, watching as they burned her, too late to help, afraid of facing the ruined inhuman thing she’d become. Too late to do anything except…that. The thing that Maxwell had warned me of, without ever explaining why. To make her just like me.

The memory of her screams mingles with Mia’s labored breathing. Two women, centuries apart, both burning because of me. Both times, I failed to protect them.

But this time is different. This time, I reached her. This time, I’m holding her. This time…

Mia’s crumbling fingers twitch against my chest, drawing me back to the present. Her emerald eyes lock onto mine, so different from Ingrid’s blue ones, yet filled with the same love.

“Not…your fault,” she manages to say, as if reading my thoughts.

Her breath rattles in her chest, growing weaker with each passing moment. I can feel her slipping away, the connection between us growing thinner, more fragile.

No. Not this time.

In another lifetime, I lost the woman I loved because I was afraid. Maxwell had warned me about turning others, and I’d assumed he was trying to spare me the burden of creating another immortal being, another creature forced to exist in darkness and on the blood of others.

The curse of immortality.

But now I understand. He wasn’t worried about the responsibility of being a maker. He was protecting our bloodline, trying to prevent the spread of the Bloodbane. He’d always known what we were, what ran in our veins.

I stroke Mia’s ravaged cheek with trembling fingers. “I won’t lose you,” I whisper. “I won’t lose you, Mia.”

What if she doesn’t want it?

The same doubt creeps back in as I second-guess myself. What if she doesn’t want an eternal life of blood and the night?

She’s dying, Soren.

And I can’t take it.

This time will be different. I won’t stand frozen in fear and regret. I won’t let the woman I love burn while I do nothing. The Bloodbane, the curse, none of it matters anymore. I’d rather face an eternity of that curse with her than live another moment without her.

Mia’s eyes flutter, struggling to stay open as she shakes her head. “So-sorry. So sorry.”

I look down at her ruined body, remembering how Maxwell once told me that turning someone wasn’t just about blood – it was about choice, about accepting the consequences of that choice. I hadn’t understood then. I do now.

“Stay with me,” I murmur, bringing my wrist to my mouth. My fangs extend, and I bite deep, letting my blood well up dark and rich.

Behind me, I hear Lucien laugh. Let him. He doesn’t understand what’s about to happen. None of them do.

I press my bleeding wrist to Mia’s cracked lips. “Drink, my love. Stay.”

She’s still for a moment. Too long. Until my breath catches in my chest, terrified that it’s too late. And then her head lifts slightly, and her mouth closes over my skin.

I press my bleeding wrist against her lips, willing her to drink. For a moment, nothing happens. Then her mouth draws down, and she latches on with desperate strength. The pull of her feeding sends shocks through my body. My vision blurs as she draws deeply from my veins, taking not just blood but my very essence.

Take it. Take everything you need.

My head spins. Dark spots dance at the edges of my vision. Still, I hold steady, letting her drink. The bond between us pulses with each swallow, growing stronger even as I grow weaker.

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