Chapter 154 Turning him into my being

Chapter 154 Turning him into my being
Turning him into my being

Liam’s POV

I had just pressed the cotton against my nose to stop the bleeding when my phone started ringing. Rosalie’s name flashed across the screen. The moment I saw it, a heavy feeling settled in my stomach. She never called me like this unless something was terribly wrong.

I answered immediately.

“Liam,” she said, her voice shaking with panic. “He’s gone into shock. You need to come now.”

My heart dropped.

I didn’t wait for another word. I shoved the phone into my pocket and rushed down the hallway, pounding hard on Vivian’s door.

She opened it almost at once, startled by the urgency on my face.

“We have to go,” I said, struggling to catch my breath. “Dylan’s dying.”

She didn’t waste time asking questions or looking for explanations. She simply grabbed her bag and within seconds we were racing out of the hotel.

Every second that passed tightened the knot in my chest. I kept praying we weren’t too late, that somehow Dylan would still be alive when we got there.

The moment we rushed inside, the sound of chaos hit me.

Doctors and nurses crowded around Dylan’s bed, moving as fast as they could. Orders were being shouted from every direction. Someone was preparing another injection while another nurse pressed down on his chest.

But none of it was working.

The heart monitor beside his bed let out one long, steady tone. A single flat line stretched across the screen without changing.

Everything inside me froze.

I stood in the doorway, staring at him, unable to move. My mind was at war with itself.

One part of me imagined a future where Dylan was gone forever. The thought left nothing but emptiness. I couldn’t picture my life without him in it.

The other part of me saw a different future. One where he survived, even if saving him meant turning him into something he might spend the rest of his life hating me for.

My chest tightened as the choice became painfully clear.

If those were my only two options, then I would accept his hatred. I would carry it for the rest of my life if it meant he was still alive. As long as he could breathe, as long as I could still see him, I could live with whatever came after.

“Everyone out!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the room. “Get out. Now!”

The doctors and nurses froze. A few exchanged uncertain looks before turning to Rosalie, silently waiting for her decision.

After a tense moment, she gave a small nod.

One by one, they filed out of the room until only Rosalie, Vivian, and I remained.

Rosalie looked at me with growing fear. “What are you planning to do?”

I met her eyes without looking away.

“I’m going to save him.”

She slowly shook her head. “Liam… hope it’s not what I’m thinking?”

“I don’t care anymore,” I snapped, my voice breaking with frustration. Months of fear, guilt, and helplessness came crashing out all at once. “Tell me the truth, Rosalie. What have you been hiding from me?”

She stayed silent.

I took a step closer, anger burning through the desperation that was already consuming me.

“Because right now,” I said, my voice low and shaking, “it feels like you’d rather watch him die than tell me whatever secret you’ve been keeping.”

“I would never think that way about someone you love,” she said, her voice shaking with hurt. It wasn’t just anger in her eyes. She looked disappointed that I could even believe she would.

“Then if you care about me at all,” I said, struggling to keep my own voice steady, “tell me the truth.”

She lowered her eyes and stayed silent for a few seconds. I honestly thought she was going to refuse. When she finally spoke, her voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“Turning him into a vampire could save him.”

My chest tightened. “Betty already told us that.”

“You can’t do it,” she said quickly, lifting her eyes to meet mine. “Not you.”

“Why?”

“Because turning him won’t just give him vampire blood. You’ll be giving him part of yourself.” Her voice cracked. “There’s a chance you won’t survive it.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You turned Vivian,” I said. “Does that mean half your life is sitting inside her now?”

Rosalie slowly shook her head.

“No. That’s different.” She stepped closer, her face full of worry. “You and Dylan are bonded. Your lives are already connected. If you give him your energy, it won’t be like an ordinary turning. It’ll drain you in ways I can’t even predict. I can’t do this for him because his life is already tied to yours.”

I heard every word she said and I understood every warning but none of it mattered.

If there was even the smallest chance Dylan could live, I was going to take it.

Without another word, I grabbed the knife again and sliced deeper into my palm. Fresh blood poured from the wound as I gently opened Dylan’s mouth and let the blood drip past his lips.

Then I waited but nothing happened.

The room was painfully quiet. Every second felt heavier than the last. I kept staring at him, watching his chest, hoping for the smallest sign that he was still fighting.

Almost an hour went by, and nothing changed.

Little by little, the hope inside me began to disappear. My legs felt weak, my heart felt empty, and I started wondering if I’d been too late. Maybe this really was the end.

Then I heard him cough and I froze.

Another cough followed, louder this time. “Dylan!”

I rushed to him so fast I nearly stumbled. My hands found his face as I called his name over and over, desperate for him to look at me.

But his eyes weren’t on me.

They were fixed on the doorway, distant and unfocused, as though he were still trapped somewhere between life and death.

“Dylan… please. Look at me.”

I kept talking to him, refusing to stop. Slowly, I noticed the paleness on his face, fading. The cold grey faded from his skin, replaced by a warmer tone. His breathing became steadier, no longer sounding like every breath was a battle.

Relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out.

Rosalie quickly ordered her men to lift him. I stayed beside them, wrapping an arm around Dylan to help keep him steady as they carefully raised him.

Before he could even understand what was happening, I cupped his face with both hands and kissed him.

I didn’t care that everyone was watching.

I didn’t care who judged me.

The only thing that mattered was that he was alive.

When I finally pulled back, tears were already burning in my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my forehead resting against his. “I’m so sorry for turning you into this. Please… forgive me.”

He didn’t answer.

He only stared at me in silence.

As the seconds stretched on, the relief I’d been holding onto slowly gave way to fear once again.