Page 76 of Blood and Fate

He took a moment to look at her, she had grown so pale from the blood loss. Too pale. Tears filled his eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Kezia had said it would be him.

“Hold on.”

Reluctantly he released the pressure, and the blood flowed. He groaned as he dove for where the knife lay.

“Hurry.” There was a desperate plea in Satori’s quiet voice.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

His fingers closed around the hilt, and he scrambled back to her side, clutching the knife, terror at what she might ask him to do with the blade squeezing the air from his lungs.

Her arms rose weakly, and her fingers rested on his forearm. “Cut your hand.”

“What?”

Was she hallucinating—going out of her mind? Why would he cut himself?

“Do it.” Her fingers closed ever so slightly on his arm, and fear hit him that it was the most strength she could muster.

He didn’t want to cut his hand, he wanted to heal her. But it was painfully clear there was no help for her. She had only moments left. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, but he would humor what would surely be her last request. He lifted the knife and laid it across his palm. The blade bit into his hand, blood welling immediately.

“It’s done. I cut my hand.”

With strength he didn’t know she still possessed, she reached out.

Frustration and confusion built inside him as he allowed her to take his shaking, bleeding hand. She placed it on her wound, allowing their blood to mingle together.

“Satori, wha . . .”

“Shh, wait.”

His shoulders slumped as he did as she said and waited. Then he felt it. The oddest sensation he had ever—or, he was sure, would ever—feel. The gaping gash in Satori’s flesh began to pull together beneath his touch.

“What in Helias?”

A small smile drew up the corners of Satori’s mouth as she closed her eyes and let her head relax. “Told you.”

“What is this?” Wide-eyed, he watched, watched it happen with his own eyes; the skin of the wound drew together and closed.

“It’s your blood,” she said weakly, but already sounding better.

His blood? He moved his hand, letting the blood coat the length of the gash. His blood was healing her. The term blood mates was far more literal than he had thought. He moved his hand from her waist to the wound in her thigh and pressed his bloody palm to her leg.

Looking up, he found her watching him, life returning to her brown eyes.

He stared wide-eyed and amazed, and then joy, unmatched, unbridled joy, bubbled up and burst from his lips in shocked laughter. She met his laughter with a smile. A smile he thought he would never see again in this world. He reached up to brush hair out of her face, the action leaving a red streak. They were both already covered in blood, so he ignored it.

“How did you know?”

She pulled in a breath and looked him in the eye. “When you were hurt in the river... You were very hurt.”

He had woken up with a headache. That’s it.

“I wasn’t injured, I hit my head.”

She nodded once, slowly. “You did hit your head. Hard. It was large and bleeding. Bram made them come get me and . . . There was so much blood, it was everywhere. He’d been suspecting about the bond. He said the only thing he could think to do was call me.”

Kais listened, wide-eyed and shocked.

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