Chapter 28
Sandra
Mark's blood runs between my fingers, hot and sticky, and all I can do is press the soaked towels against the deep cuts, begging him to hold on. My body trembles, my eyes burn.
"Hang on, please, help is coming..."
He doesn't answer. His chest seems motionless, and panic hits me hard. I press my head against his chest, in the area free of injuries, and hold my breath until I hear the faint but steady sound of his heart.
I breathe a sigh of relief, shifting my attention to his lips.
His breathing is shallow and unstable.
But he is breathing.
My gaze turns to the forest when a sound tears through it, and I lift him up when I realise it's coming from above, getting closer and closer, too fast.
My body stiffens, my heart races, my instincts on high alert. It's unlike anything I've ever seen.
The treetops sway violently, as if a storm is about to break, and the noise intensifies.
Wings.
Huge wings.
And then I see it.
A creature emerges, camouflaged in the darkness of the night, but upon closer inspection, I can see that its black scales glisten like oil in the moonlight.
A dragon...
Smaller than I imagined dragons to be, but still powerful, with sparkling amber eyes and a dagger-tipped tail, hovering in the air like a living shadow.
It is not alone.
On its back, I notice the silhouette of a man, holding tight to the ridges as he rides it.
On each of its front legs, between the colossal claws, two more men are carried.
The dragon lets out a snort that sounds almost like a greeting before descending, releasing its passengers with a surprisingly graceful movement.
Ethan and Balthazar land on their feet. And Ted, who slides down the creature's leg and jumps to the ground.
"Thanks," the latter says breathlessly.
"You're welcome, Bear," a female voice comes from the dragon.
Before I can understand, the creature shrinks, its forms compress, and in the blink of an eye, it is nothing more than a black raven, which takes flight and disappears into the night.
Ted and Ethan rush to cross the magical barrier and reach us, throwing themselves to their knees on the other side of the Mark.
"I-I did what I could," my voice fails, a sob escapes. "I didn't know what else to do. Please take care of him. Please!"
Ted turns his face sharply towards me, his eyes burning with suspicion.
"Who are you? What did you do to him?"
Panic grips my chest.
"I tried to help... I...
My voice trails off as I look down at my hands. Red. Bloodied. My entire body is stained red, every part of me touched by Mark's blood.
Ethan is pale, his eyes wide as he assesses the severity of the wounds.
"You did well to try to stop the bleeding, but he's lost a lot," he murmurs, his tone grave. "The wounds aren't closing and his heart is about to give out. What the hell happened?" Ethan curses.
"Balthazar brought a healing potion," Ted says. "But he's unconscious. He won't be able to drink it properly, for fuck's sake..."
"It can be injected!" Balthazar shouts from a distance, without crossing the barrier.
Ted growls.
"Now you speak?!"
He passes the small test tube to Ethan, who deftly catches it and quickly draws the liquid into a syringe. Without hesitation, he sticks the needle straight into Mark's jugular and injects the substance.
The cuts begin to close before our eyes.
The skin begins to reconnect, but then everything stops.
The wounds have only decreased in size. They are not as deep as before, but they are still there, with dark edges.
Something is wrong, but Ethan doesn't hesitate to dig into the bag he brought with him and pull out a suture kit.
"He needs more potion! Give him more!" I beg desperately, looking from Ted to Ethan with teary eyes.
"It won't work!" Balthazar shouts from the other side of the barrier. "He needs an antidote!"
My stomach sinks.
"What are you standing there for? Come and help!" I yell back.
"He can't," Ted replies. "He needs to be invited by someone who lives here. And Mark is unconscious."
"You can come in!" I shout to the wizard. "Hurry up!"
Balthazar hesitates for a second before stretching out his leg, testing the limit. As soon as it crosses the barrier, he runs towards us.
"Who are you?" Ted asks again, his voice lower but full of tension.
I feel their eyes on me. Ethan glances at me sideways, but soon returns his focus to suturing the most serious wounds.
I straighten my shoulders, ready to answer, but then I realise my situation.
I am completely naked.
My hair falls over my breasts, offering improvised coverage, while I remain seated on my heels, with a towel discreetly positioned over my lap, trying to preserve a minimum of modesty. But any wrong move and I'll be exposed.
So I just lift my chin, open my mouth to respond, hesitating when I hear them gasp in surprise.
It takes me a moment to understand what has happened, until I notice their eyes fixed on my neck.
They're looking at the collar.
I take a deep breath and finally reply:
"My name is Sandra, but you know me as..."
"Kitten," Ted finishes my sentence.
I nod, my teary eyes returning to Mark's face, pale beneath the bloodstains.
I hold back my tears; I need to be strong.
"We don't have time for distractions," I force the words out.
"She's right." Balthazar crouches down beside Mark, opening his briefcase on the grass.
Its interior appears empty, with a black lining, but then he puts his arm inside and mutters something. When he pulls his hand out again, he is holding a red potion in a small glass bottle.
"Hold his head," the wizard orders Ted. "He needs to drink this."
Ted doesn't hesitate. Sitting behind Mark, he carefully rests his friend's head on his legs. His gaze wanders over Mark's face — beneath the blood, the skin has taken on an unhealthy greyish tone, the lips turning blue.
Balthazar touches the tube to Mark's half-open lips and pours the liquid in small sips. At first, he chokes, his throat contracting in a weak reflex, but then his body reacts, and he begins to swallow.
None of us dare breathe.
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, slowly, a breath of colour returns to his skin, pushing away the deathly hue. His chest rises and falls at a steadier pace — still weak, but noticeable. His eyelids flutter, he blinks a few times before closing them again.
My heart races.
"He's responding!" My voice is thick with hope.
"This potion stimulates blood production, but the poison is still spreading," Balthazar warns, pointing to the black spots spreading around the wounds.
"How did this happen?" Ethan asks.
"It was the wolves," I hiss. "Liam did this to him."
Ted lets out a low curse, runs his hand over his face, his eyes widening as it sinks in.
"The duel..." He clenches his jaw. "I was too focused on the attacks on the city and didn't think about it. Shit!" Ted roars, running his hand through his short hair.
I try to think, to help in some way. Every supernatural being has its weakness, something that weakens it, that acts like poison.
"Could it be wolfbane?" I ask hesitantly, letting the thought form slowly.
"Unlikely..." Ted hesitates, but shakes his head. "If Liam used that, he would also be contaminated upon contact with the plant. Wolfbane poisons werewolves."
"It wasn't a silver cut," Balthazar says, frowning.
"They usually use it against shapeshifters, but silver leaves whitish marks.
It only slows down healing in the affected area, it doesn't spread.
When it comes into contact with a shapeshifter's skin, it creates a barrier, preventing the cut from closing.
Ethan keeps his eyes on Mark, assessing every detail of his condition.
"I need a blood sample. If I can analyse it, I can find out what's poisoning you."
"Great. How long will it take?" Ted stares at him.
Ethan lets out a shaky sigh, his shoulders tense.
"Maybe two days, if the analysis is quick."
"Two days?!" Ted growls. "He may not be alive by then."
Ethan just nods, his lips pulled into a tight line.
"I know, Ted. But it's the best I can do. Do you have a better idea?"
Silence weighs heavily between them, until something seems to click in Ted's mind.
"I'm going to get that information out of the wolves right now." His voice is a growl, and he makes a move to lay Mark's head on the grass so he can get up.
"You can't go alone." Ethan turns to him, grabbing one of his arms to stop him. "It's an entire clan against you, you won't get reinforcements, the sentries are still recovering. I left many wounded behind to come help Mark."
Ted runs his hand over his face in frustration.
Ethan speaks again.
"The only one who came out unscathed was Zephyra, but..."
"...she used up almost all of her essence and used what was left to bring us here," Ted adds, resigned.
Balthazar rummages through his enchanted bag and pulls out some herbs, as well as a pestle and mortar.
"I'll prepare another potion to slow the progression of the poisoning," says the wizard, already beginning to macerate the ingredients. "He'll need to take it every hour, but we don't know how long it will be effective. We need to find out what poison was used."
Something is hammering in my mind.
A detail that Mark told me. Something important...
The memory strikes me like a bolt of lightning.
I hold my breath and glance at the three men.
"What poisons a fae?"
Ethan raises his head, confused.
"Fae?"
Ted frowns.
"What does that matter? Mark is a werewolf-shapeshifter hybrid..."
I blink at them, my heart racing.
"No." I shake my head. "Mark's mother was a fae. Didn't you know that? He carries fae essence, so..."
The silence that follows is thick, heavy with tension.
Balthazar closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his expression sombre.
"Cold iron..." the wizard murmurs, his voice heavy. "If that's the case, he's worse off than we thought."
"Is there an antidote?" Ethan presses, his patience on the verge of collapse.