Awaken | ✔️

28. Blood

"The knife, in my back, take it out." He choked on his own words.

I nodded once and stood behind him, carefully stepping over the ends of his wings which touched the floor. The knife embedded in his back was large with a decorated hilt. My fingers wrapped around it, gripping it as I sucked in a breath. I shut my eyes as I yanked back, and it came out. As I opened my eyes again I stared down at the spot on his back. It oozed blood and the tips of his wings twitched.

I dropped the knife, and it clanged against the floor. The blood wouldn't stop coming from the wound, which made my own back ache in response to the connection we had from the pendant. I cursed beneath my breath and pulled my shirt off over my head. I was thankful I had fallen asleep with a sports bra on. Pressing the shirt against the wound, I chewed the inside of my lip.

"Is that better?" I peered at him carefully. The shirt was already turning red the longer I held it against him.

He nodded, but his voice was strained as he said, "Yes." The invisible energy rolling off him was growing weaker, and the room felt unusually cold, despite him having his wings out. I pressed my hand against his shoulder, and where I had once felt vibrant electricity and warmth, there was nothing. I should have been able to sense him in all his power in this state, but he was growing weaker by the second.

"Don't lie to me." I glared at him and held the shirt harder against the week. Cmon, I thought to myself.

I took in a shaky breath. My choices were limited, it wasn't like I could haul a boy with massive wings to a hospital. I knew what he and those like him needed to survive. I carefully pressed the shirt against his back, walking around him and kneeling before him. His eyes were closed, and his lips were set into a hard line as he concentrated. His brows were scrunched, creating small wrinkles in his forehead.

"Look at me," I whispered.

"I don't want you to see me like this." He took a hard breath through his nose.

"Clark, look at me." I tried to sound as serious as I could.

His eyes opened. His once vibrant blue eyes were completely black, the same black I had now seen twice. My heart jumped in my chest, and he shut his eyes again. "I can sense your emotions, Beth," he said softly. "Just get out of here, I'll be fine."

"Don't you dare talk like that," I growled. "Don't you use whatever connection this necklace makes between us and then burn me in my sleep to make me come save you if you're going to talk like that." I put both of my hands on his cheeks and forced his head up. "Look at me, Clark."

It was a moment before his eyes opened again, but this time I did not move away or react. His brows were angled, his features softening into sadness. The black of the dark faes eyes, this was who they really were. My lips pursed into a hard line. "I'm not afraid of you," I said. "I just killed someone, I'm more afraid of myself." I gulped. I'd rather not think of what I'd done.

"You saved me," he said, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. At least he still had some of his humor.

I dropped both of my hands as I settled onto my knees in front of him. "You're weak," I whispered.

"I'll be fine." He closed his eyes again, but this time he didn't scrunch his brows. Through whatever bond connected us, I could tell he was tiring more by the second.

"Stay awake," I demanded. Panic started rising in my stomach, and my breath quicker as my eyes fluttered. The corners of my eyes stung, and my throat was beginning to tighten as I stared at him.

I finally did what I had been weighing in my mind. I picked up the intricate knife and ran its sharp edge along my wrist. Blood came to the surface, and I lifted my hand in front of his face. "Drink," I said. "You need energy. I'm not going to sit here and watch you waste away after I killed someone."