\[Denali’s POV\]
Burning. My lungs are burning, and my body is freezing. I can feel a cold floor beneath me, but it is solid, so why am I wet? Everything is confusing, and I don’t know what’s going on.
Groaning, I begin to pry my eyes open, but the world around me is blurry. Blinking a few times, I manage to get things to become clear, and I can see Rosco lying on the ground. He isn’t moving, and it is clear from my vantage point that something is wrong.
“Rosco,” I rasp, but my voice is barely a whisper. “Rosco, wake up.”
He doesn’t move; he doesn’t even flinch at the sound of my voice, and as I look closer, I can see blood beginning to pool beneath him.
“Rosco,” I repeat, more strongly, but he continues to not move. “Rosco!”
Slowly, I attempt to lift my body, but it is so damn heavy. What’s wrong with me? And where was I?
Everything was a blur before I woke up in this place, but I knew that something serious must have happened.
“Rosco,” I whisper, beginning to move toward him. “Please.”
I couldn’t just stay here and watch as his life faded away. There had to be something I could do to help.
As I move forward, I spot Nadia. She’s completely bare and bleeding. Her large eyes are fixed on Rosco as a clear war is being fought within her, and it is in that moment that I understand what needs to be done given where her eyes are resting. She is considering marking him.
No! I wouldn’t allow her to do that, not while I was here. If that was the way to save Rosco, then I would be the one to do it.
Using all my strength, I scramble forward until I’m beside him, and then I’m wrapping my mouth around his neck and digging my teeth into him. Where we are connected, I can feel the rustling of my essence trickling into him, and with each passing minute, I can feel the pain that he is feeling.
Goddess, it hurts. What was actually wrong? Things were still so very confusing. What happened during the time I was out?
“NO!” Nadia’s voice rings out around us as she gets up and rushes forward, grabbing me by the hair and pulling. “HE’S MINE, YOU BITCH!”
Pain shoots through me as she throws me into the wall and then rushes forward, claws out, ready to kill me.
“HOW DARE YOU MARK HIM?” She roars, raking her claws along my skin. “HE’S MINE! MINE!”
Lifting my arms, I attempt to stop her attack as she continues to attack. At this moment, she was manic, and I knew there was no reasoning with her, but what could I do?
Looking over, I find that Rosco is still unmoving, and the pool of blood beneath him is growing bigger. If she continued this and didn’t allow me to help him, then he was going to die!
“DIE!” Nadia shrieks, wrapping her hands around my throat. “JUST DIE AND GET OUT OF OUR LIVES!”
Eyes widening, I claw at her wrists in an attempt to break her hold, but it doesn’t work. She is so much stronger than me, and I was being reminded yet again of how useless I was. Honestly, maybe this was for the best. All I was doing was being with Rosco, which was causing him trouble again and again. Maybe if I wasn’t here, then he…
No! I couldn’t think like that. The pity party didn’t belong here any longer. When I decided to take a chance on happiness, I promised to be strong. And now was the time to live up to that promise.
“Stop!” I hiss, lifting my gaze to Nadia’s.
“Die!” Nadia repeats, tightening her hold. “Just get out of our lives! Leave!”
“IF YOU KEEP THIS UP, ROSCO WILL DIE!” I snarl, extending my claws and digging them into her arms. “CAN’T YOU SEE HE IS DYING!”
For a moment, she doesn’t speak as she stares down at me and then slowly turns her head to Rosco. And as she opens her mouth to speak, the sound of sirens reaches us before the police burst into the room with their weapons raised.
Instantly, relief floods through me as Nadia is pulled off of me while kicking and screaming.
Great, help was here, and this whole ordeal was over. But were they too late? Would Rosco be okay, or would he...
“He will,” I whisper, refusing to accept anything less than his survival. “He has to.”
Getting up, I prepare to go to his side but stop as pain shoots through my chest, causing me to double over and curl in on myself. Gasping, I try to swallow down what I’m sure is throw up, but I’m unable to, and when everything escapes me, the sickening taste of iron explodes in my mouth.
“Over here!” One of the cops calls, rushing to my side. “She’s hurt.”
As he speaks, a paramedic rushes over and begins to examine me, trying to find the cause of my throwing up blood, and when he looks beneath the hospital gown I still wear, he lets out a hiss of shock.
“Looks like she had surgery recently, and her sutures have opened.”
After that, I’m loaded onto a stretcher and rushed to an ambulance. By this point, my consciousness is fading in and out, but I fight to stay awake.
“Rosco,” I whisper, drawing one of the paramedics attention toward me. “How is he?”
“Who?” He asks, furrowing his brows. “You mean the man?”
“Yes,” I respond, my heart squeezing with worry. “How is he?”
“Stable,” the paramedic responds. “I don’t know anything past that.”
At his words, my heart drops, and guilt slams into me. If it wasn’t for me getting into trouble, this wouldn’t have happened. If he died, it would be on me, and I would follow closely behind him. I couldn’t continue to live with his blood on my hands. I refused.
Closing my eyes, I try to stop seeing images of him lying on the ground, unmoving, but they continue to attack me until I finally fall into darkness.
When I wake again, I’m back in the hospital with the soothing beeping of machines and the familiar scent of alcohol. But none of this helps me, as my fear spikes.
Jumping up, I rip the IV from my arm and begin to move while extending my senses until I feel Rosco.
Fearing the worst, I move quickly through the halls while nurses and doctors take me in with confusion, but when one attempts to talk to me, I ignore her and burst into Rosco’s room to find him laying in bed with his chest exposed and wrapped with bandages. It rises and falls steadily, and my worst fears are dashed away.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, moving forward and collapsing on my knees beside his bed. “Thank the goddess.”