18. Liam
Chapter 18
Liam
I ’m on patrol, my senses heightened as I scan the streets for any signs of trouble. My mind is still reeling from the argument with Grayson, and I’m desperate for a distraction, something to take my mind off the tension brewing between us.
That’s when I hear it—a pained moan echoing from the nearby alley.
Not again! Damn it.
I break into a sprint, my heart pounding in my chest as I round the corner and come face to face with Selene.
She’s hunched over, weak, and bleeding profusely from a deep wound on her neck. Panic and fear flicker in her eyes as tears streak down her cheeks, and my stomach twists at the sight of her distress.
Her black dress looks tattered, and her purse and its contents are strewn on the ground near her.
She is wearing boots that are caked in blood.
She is badly hurt.
I rush to her side, dropping to my knees beside her as I assess the damage. The scent of blood hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the unmistakable stench of wolf.
I can feel the anger boiling inside me at the thought of someone attacking her, of someone daring to harm her in such a brutal way.
Does no one actually pay attention to the damn treaties?
I reach out to touch her, to offer some semblance of comfort, but she flinches away from my touch, her body trembling with pain and fear. I curse under my breath, cursing whoever did this to her. I’m not heartless, but why do I care so much about what happens to her?
“Selene,” I say, my voice low and urgent as I try to get her attention. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
She shakes her head, her words coming out in choked sobs. “I don’t know,” she gasps, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was just walking, and then... they attacked me.”
She is clearly not telling me everything, but I am too agitated to ask more questions.
I grit my teeth in frustration, my fists clenching at my sides as I struggle to contain the rage bubbling within me. I know I need to focus, to help her, but all I can think about is finding the bastards responsible for this and making them pay.
But as I scan the alley, my eyes searching for any sign of the attackers, I come up empty-handed. There’s no one here, no trace of the wolves who did this to her.
I turn back to Selene, my heart aching at the sight of her pain. “We need to get you out of here,” I tell her, my voice firm and resolute. “Can you stand? Can you walk?”
She nods weakly, her hand reaching out to me for support. I take her arm gently, helping her to her feet as we stumble out of the alley and onto the street.
After a few steps, though, her steps falter. She’s too weak to walk, and her breathing is shallow and labored.
I gently lift Selene into my arms, her body limp and frail against me as I carry her to my car.
Panic gnaws at the edges of my mind as I place her in the backseat and realize she’s unconscious. Her skin is pale, her lips cracked, and blood continues to ooze from the wound on her neck.
I know what needs to be done, but the consequences of this decision could cost me. But I have to help her. Selene may be a vampire, but she’s also a person—a person in need. My thoughts race as I grapple with the morality of my choices.
With a shaky hand, I draw my claw across my palm, tearing it open to reveal the crimson flow of blood.
Gently, I bring my hand to Selene’s mouth, willing her to drink, to find strength in my blood.
At first, there’s no response, no sign that she’s even aware of my presence. But then, ever so slowly, the color begins to return to her face, her breathing steadying as she instinctively begins to feed.
I watch her, awe and trepidation swirling in my chest as her lips part, her teeth sinking into my palm.
A wave of pleasure courses through me, unexpected and intoxicating, as I feel her drawing from me, taking what she needs to survive.
My cock grows hard in my pants as I feel a rush from the sudden blood loss.
I gently brush her hair back from her face and nuzzle against her head, offering what comfort I can in this moment of vulnerability.
Despite the circumstances, there’s a strange intimacy to this act, a connection forged in blood and need.
And as I feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, the steady rhythm of her feeding, I feel a stirring deep within me—a desire that goes beyond mere physical attraction, transcending the boundaries of species and morality.
Fuck!
I can’t let her die.
I can’t let anything happen to her.
She might have killed Mia and broken our treaties, but I could not let her die.
Never.
I am tempted to brush a thumb over her cheek to feel how soft she will be to the touch, but I stop myself.
For now, I push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand, on ensuring that Selene survives this ordeal.