Chapter 35 35

Chapter 35 35
CHAPTER 35
\[Rhea’s POV\]

The silence of the apartment was shattered by a sound I never thought I’d hear from someone as strong as Damian. It wasn't just a groan or a hiss of pain. It was a raw, guttural scream that ripped through the air, vibrating against the walls. Damian doubled over on the couch, his face contorting into a mask of agony. His skin, usually a warm bronze, had turned a sickly, pale grey. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, matting his dark hair against his skin.

"Damian!" I cried, falling to my knees beside him. "What is it? What’s happening?"

Lucien was over him in an instant, his hands gripping Damian’s shoulders to keep him from thrashing. "Damian, talk to me! Is it the wolfsbane?"

Damian couldn't answer. He just gripped the edge of the cushions, his knuckles turning white, a harsh, wheezing breath escaping his lips. I didn't wait for permission. My hands were trembling so much I could barely function, but I reached for the bandage I had just finished wrapping around his forearm.

"I need to see it," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I need to see why it’s hurting this much."

I slowly unwound the gauze. The white fabric was already soaked with a dark, almost black fluid. As the last layer fell away, I felt the air leave my lungs. I almost choked on the sharp smell that filled the room.

The wound wasn't healing. For a werewolf, a cut like that should have already been closing, even with wolfsbane. But this was different. The edges of the slash were jagged and turning a deep, bruised purple. Dark, thin veins, looking like cracked glass, were spider-webbing out from the wound, crawling up toward his elbow and down toward his wrist. They pulsed with a sickly black light.

"It’s spreading," I whispered, horror rising in my throat. "Lucien, look. It’s moving."

This wasn't just wolfsbane. I had seen what that did earlier; it burned, it slowed them down, but it didn't do this. Whatever had been on that masked man's knife was much worse.

"Damian, look at me," I said, grabbing his face with my hands. His eyes were unfocused, the crimson light flickering weakly.

"I'm...I'm fine, Rhea," he gasped out, trying to force a smile that looked more like a grimace of pain. "Just a... little sting. I've had worse... from a paper cut."

"Don't lie to me!" I snapped, tears blurring my vision. "You're not fine. You're shaking. Your skin is cold."

He reached out with his good hand, his fingers brushing against my cheek. Even in his state, he was trying to protect me. "I'm a strong man, little mate. A little bit of... whatever this is... it won't take me down. I promise."

But as he said the words, another spasm of pain racked his body, and he let out a choked sob, his head falling back against the couch. Lucien’s face was a mask of cold fury and desperation. He stood up, his silver eyes flashing.

"We have to go," Lucien said. His voice was hard, leaving no room for argument.

"Go where?" I asked, looking up at him.

"There is a healer," Lucien explained, his mind clearly already miles away, planning the route. "An elder who lives deep in the northern territory. He knows the old ways, the poisons that the hunters used to use centuries ago. This is an ancient brew, Rhea. If we don't get the poison drawn out of his blood in the next forty-eight hours, it will hit his heart. And if it hits his heart, he won't wake up."

The room felt like it was spinning. Forty-eight hours. I looked at Damian, who was fighting so hard to stay conscious, and I felt a wave of guilt so heavy it almost knocked me over. He had gone out there for me. He was dying because of me.

"Then take him," I said, standing up. My heart was breaking at the thought of them leaving, but I couldn't let my fear keep him here. "Take him right now. Don't waste another second."

"Rhea, I'm nervous about leaving you here," Lucien said, stepping toward me. He took my hands in his, his grip tight. "Mark is still out there. This masked man is out there. If we leave, you'll be alone in this apartment."

"I'll be fine," I lied. "I'll lock the doors. I'll stay away from the windows. I have my phone. Just save him, Lucien. Please. That's all that matters."

Damian let out a weak groan. "Come with us... Rhea. Pack a bag. We can't... leave you."

I looked at Damian and then back at Lucien. The thought of being a burden on a trip that was a race against time made me shake my head. I wasn't a wolf yet, not fully. I couldn't run like they could. I would slow them down. I would be one more thing for Lucien to worry about while he was trying to save his brother’s life.

"No," I said firmly. "I'll be a burden. You need to move fast. Besides, I have classes I can't miss. If I suddenly disappear, Mark will know something is wrong. If I stay here and keep up a routine, maybe he'll think everything is normal."

"I hate this," Lucien muttered. He pulled me into his chest, burying his face in my hair. "Promise me, Rhea. Promise me you won't step a foot out of this apartment until we get back. If you need food, order it. If someone knocks, don't answer. Use the security codes I gave you."

"I promise," I whispered into his shirt.

Lucien pulled back and looked at me one last time, his eyes filled with a raw, unspoken promise of his own. He went to the closet and grabbed a heavy bag, throwing in a few essentials. Then, he went over to Damian and hauled him up. Damian leaned heavily on Lucien, his legs shaking, but he managed to stand.

I grabbed Damian's coat from the chair, the one that still smelled of him, and draped it over his shoulders. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He tasted like sweat, but I didn't care.

"You come back to me, Damian," I whispered against his mouth. "You hear me? You stay strong."

"Always... for you," he breathed.

I turned to Lucien. He was watching me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I didn't wait for him to move and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, a desperate, passionate kiss that told him everything I couldn't say out loud. I needed him to be safe. I needed him to bring his brother back.

"Go," I said, pulling away.

Lucien nodded once. He gripped Damian tighter and led him toward the door. I followed them, watching as they stepped out into the hallway. Lucien looked back one last time, his silver eyes burning, before the door clicked shut.

I heard the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place. I heard their footsteps fading down the hall.

Then, silence.

The apartment had never felt so big. It had never felt so cold. I stood in the middle of the living room, hugging myself, listening to the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock. Every little sound made me jump. A car honking outside. The wind whistling through the vents.

I tried to tell myself I was safe. I tried to remember Lucien’s promise. But the guilt was still there, eating at me. I walked around the room, making sure every window was locked twice. I checked the front door again, even though I knew it was secure.

I sat on the couch, where the scent of Damian still lingered on the cushions. I tried to breathe it in, trying to find comfort, but it was overshadowed by that poisoned smell from earlier.

Suddenly, the air in the room shifted.

That same, heavy, intense presence I had felt before. It was like a weight pressing down on my shoulders, a cold finger tracing the back of my neck. My heart leaped into my throat. The hair on my arms stood up.

Someone is watching.

I looked toward the dark window, but the curtains were shut. I looked toward the kitchen, but it was empty. The feeling grew stronger, more suffocating, as if someone were standing right behind me, breathing down my neck.

I didn't wait to see if a shadow would appear. I bolted.

I ran for my bedroom, my feet skidding on the hardwood floor. I slammed the door shut and locked it, my breath coming in jagged sobs. I scrambled into the bed, pulling the duvet over my head and curling into a tiny ball.

I was alone. And whatever was outside knew.