Chapter Fifty-Two: Blood on His Hand

Chapter Fifty-Two: Blood on His Hand
David’s breath was ragged, the edges of his voice sharp with pain, but the moment the shouts from outside grew louder, he started to push himself up from the bed.

Faith caught his shoulder, forcing him back down. “Don’t even think about it.”

“They’re arguing over the next strike,” he said, voice hoarse. “If I’m not out there…”

“You’ll bleed out in front of them.”

His eyes locked on hers, dark and unyielding despite the pallor already creeping into his skin. “If they think I’m too weak to lead, Faith, we’ve already lost.”

Before she could answer, a knock came too sharp and too urgent. A warrior stepped in, the smell of smoke clinging to his clothes.

“Alpha, the scouts report movement near the east border. Orell colors.”

Faith turned sharply. “We just fought them…”

“They’re testing the gaps,” David said, and swung his legs over the side of the bed before she could stop him.

The moment he stood, blood seeped through the bandage she’d hastily wrapped around his waist, darkening the fabric in seconds. Faith’s wolf snarled inside her. She stepped between him and the door.

“You’re not leaving this room.”

His voice dropped, quiet but dangerous. “Move, Faith.”

“No.”

For a long moment, they stood locked in a silent standoff her hands curled into fists, his jaw tight with the kind of fury that didn’t come from anger at her, but from the war raging outside and the one raging in his own body.

Finally, he broke the silence. “If they see me, they’ll think I’m fine.”

“And if you collapse in front of them?” She stepped closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “You’re not fine, David. And if you keep pretending you are, you’re going to die.”

Something in his expression flickered, the iron mask cracking for just a heartbeat before he set it again. “I can’t let them see weakness.”

“Then let me help you hide it.”

He hesitated, the faintest quirk in his brow as if he wasn’t sure whether she meant her words as a bargain or a threat. But before he could decide, his knees buckled.

Faith caught him again and eased him back onto the bed. He didn’t fight her this time. The warriors outside were still calling for him, but she ignored them, her attention fixed on the heat radiating off his skin.

“Send for the healers,” one of the guards urged from the doorway.

“No,” Faith said, without looking away from David. “They’ll waste time with poultices and prayers. This is silver. I’ll tend to him myself.”

The guard hesitated, glancing between them. David gave a weak shake of his head, sealing the matter. The door shut behind them.

For a moment, the room was silent except for his breathing. His hands, still faintly trembling, rested on his thighs and she realized they weren’t trembling from weakness alone. His fingers were still curled slightly, as if gripping a blade that wasn’t there.

“You’re still in the fight,” she murmured.

His eyes opened, locking on hers. “It’s all I’ve got.”

Her chest tightened. “No. You’ve got me.”

Something in his gaze softened, but the edges of him the battle-hardened Alpha stayed sharp. “Then do what you came to do, Faith. Before I start thinking about the border again.”

She nodded, moving to kneel beside him. Her hands worked fast, stripping away the blood-soaked bandage. The wound was worse than she’d let herself believe. The edges were blackened and angry, silver poisoning the skin in jagged streaks.

Faith swallowed down the surge of panic and reached for the bowl of water she’d brought, dipping a cloth into it. She cleaned the blood from his side in slow, deliberate strokes. His muscles twitched under her touch, the bond between them alive in every drag of the cloth.

“You’re burning up,” she said softly.

“You’re shaking,” he countered.

She ignored him, leaning in to examine the wound more closely. The bond flared in her chest again, that steady pull between them tightening until she could feel his pain like it was her own. Her wolf pushed at the surface, restless, demanding she do more than just clean.

She set the cloth aside. “This isn’t enough.”

“Then what?” His voice was quiet now, low and rough in a way that scraped along her nerves.

She hesitated, because what she was about to do wasn’t sanctioned. Elder Nareen had told her once that some bonds could heal in ways that weren’t meant to be shared outside of prophecy. It was dangerous intimate in a way that left no room for distance afterward.

But he was bleeding. And she wasn’t losing him.

“I need your hands,” she said.

His brow furrowed, but he obeyed, lifting them. She took them in hers, feeling the dried blood still clinging to his skin blood from his enemies, from his own wound. Blood that told the story of every fight he’d fought for them.

“This will hurt,” she warned.

He smirked faintly. “Everything already does.”

She closed her eyes, pulling on the bond between them until it felt like it was humming in her bones. The air thickened, the scent of his blood mixing with the sharp ozone tang of something older magic that belonged to the first wolves.

Her palms began to glow faintly where they touched his. His breath caught, his fingers tightening around hers. The heat between them rose, not just from the wound but from something deeper a heat that had nothing to do with silver and everything to do with how close they already were.

She felt the poison fighting her, sharp and cold, but the bond pushed back, feeding strength into her. Her wolf growled low in her chest, demanding he stay alive, demanding they finish this together.

When she finally opened her eyes, the edges of the wound had stopped blackening. The silver’s bite was retreating.

David exhaled slowly, his grip loosening but not leaving hers. “What did you just do?”

She didn’t answer right away, still feeling the echo of the bond in her chest. “Saved your life. And maybe… made it harder to ignore what’s between us.”

His mouth curved into something between a grimace and a smile. “You think I’ve been ignoring it?”

She arched a brow. “Haven’t you?”

His hand moved from hers to her jaw, fingers rough but steady. “Not for a second.”

Outside, the warriors still called for their Alpha. But inside the room, for just a moment, the war stopped and the only thing either of them could feel was the bond, alive and burning, between their joined hands.