Page 93 of A Debt of Darkness

He’s taken what’s mine and he’s fucking hurt her.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK?”

His eyes snap to mine and they’re red. Far too red. He’s drunk and now he’s sated. He’s had his fill and Ivy’s heart is beating so faintly that I’m struggling to hear it.

My anger rises. It’s worse than anger. Worse than rage. I’m beyond furious. I’ve never felt this fucking livid and I don’t know if there’s a word to describe the sheer fury sweeping through me.

“It isn’t what…”

“GET. AWAY. FROM. HER.”

Ryan lowers her to the ground as I charge forward and he backs away in time to avoid my wrath. He’s fortunate I’m occupied with Ivy, and I grab her, pulling her against me as I try to keep her warm. Try to will her to pull through this.

“She gave willingly...”

I turn my gaze to my best friend, the man I’ve lived with through centuries of hell, and my expression is ice cold. He’s betrayed my trust, stolen the most precious thing from me, and risked my mate’s life—and I won’t forgive him.

“I was dying, Henry…”

His voice trails off as my glare cuts him short.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”

Ryan’s head sinks and he drops to his knees, offering his submission. He’s my second and I command him—and now he’s giving me the choice to end his life. The one he’s claiming Ivy saved.

“She stabbed herself, Henry. She dripped her blood into my mouth. I’d be dead if she hadn’t.”

I pull her against me as I tip my head back and roar. Ivywouldn’t have known the danger she put herself in if that’s what happened. She couldn’t have known a bloodlust would consume Ryan. It’s so potent he’d be unable to hold back. He’d have roused and turned on her, drinking until he’d had his fill or she was dead.

Ryan’s rambling, trying to explain and justify his actions. He’s talking about an ambush and how they were outnumbered. It sounds vicious, but he never should have let it happen. He never should have accepted this from her. From my mate. My wife.

“Ivy,” I whisper.

Her breathing’s shallow and her pulse is quick and faint. She’s clinging on and fighting. She’s brave. Exceptionally brave. But maybe not strong enough to make it through this.

“How long?”

“I stopped a few moments ago,” Ryan says, looking down and away as he shrinks from me in guilt. His shame is deserved and I won’t relieve him of it.

I’ve got more important things to attend to.

The first few minutes after drinking determine the outcome, especially when food’s drained like this. Ivy will either find the strength to pull through this or her heart will give up, buckling under the strain of trying to keep going.

“I’d have turned her if I didn’t think she’d make it.”

I snarl and Ryan shudders.

He’s right though.

Turning her is an option.

One to seriously consider at this point. She’s got little left and letting her drink our blood would save her, albeit in a different form. She’ll turn unprepared and experience the same horror Ryan and I did when we were turned. It’s painful, terrifying and soul-destroying. It scars you in ways you can’timagine, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

Now, I’m contemplating turning my wife like that because it could be the only thing that’ll keep her alive.

I promised I’d keep her safe.

I promised to protect her.

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