“I think you’re wrong. He and Cybil share a connection.”
Snarling with frustration, he got in her face and sneered, “My son is more likely to drain that little girl dry than spare a moment of his own comfort to see to hers.”
She blinked and her eyes unfocused. “Your anger can’t undo what’s been done, Jonas. I’m getting tired and I need to rest now.”
She went to the bed and coughed. His anger morphed into concern and he found himself by her side. Her body was warm, but she shivered. He helped her recline into a comfortable position.
“You had better start soon. I’m falling asleep.”
His heart raced, and he hesitated. “Can…Can I hold you?”
“I think that would be nice.”
He slowly eased onto the bed, taking up the space behind her and curling a gentle arm around her waist. She shut her eyes and sighed.
“It’s been a long time since a man held me like this.”
The scent of her blood called to him and his eyes focused on her pulse, following every darkened vein under the translucent covering of her skin.
“Will it hurt, Jonas?”
He swallowed. “No. I will make it pleasurable for you.”
Eyes still closed, she smiled. “Well, there’s something to look forward to. Go ahead then, I’m ready.”
Her pulse was slowing and her body was cooling. He drew back the opening of her robe, exposing her narrow shoulder. Sweeping away her hair, he breathed her in and pressed a kiss over her pulse.
A soft sigh met his ears and his body hardened. He pulled her closer, holding her tight in his hungering, aching need, and sank his teeth into her vein.
She stiffened then instantly relaxed. Hot, nourishing blood met his tongue and he groaned, pulling greedily from the source. His body rocked into her, hungry and wanting for more. Her breathy sighs were short and labored.
His grip tightened and he tasted her panic but sent a calming command out and she relaxed. The darkness inside of him retreated and his body purred at the relief, his soul sewing to hers and a new hope stitching his heart together again.
The tinge of something synthetic met his tongue and he pulled away, licking his lips at the bitter taste of western medicine. He rolled her to her back and smiled down at her, biting into his wrist and opening his vein.
“Now, you must drink, sweet Clara.”
She watched him through silver lashes, her gaze barely sneaking through the slits of her eyes as she slowly shook her head.
“No, Jonas.” Her hand weakly covered his. “Now I’m done.”
His body trembled, the scent of her anemia strong and alarming. “You must. I’ve taken too much blood and we have to complete the transition.”
“We discussed this,” she murmured, her words slow and slurred.
“Forget what we discussed!” he snapped. “You must drink!”
Her hand slipped away and her head lulled deeper into the pillow.
“Clara! I command you to drink.” He cradled her shoulders, dragging her body over his, and pressed his wrist to her thin, cold lips. “Clara! Open your eyes!”
He sent out a mental command, but her mind hid under a fog of muscle relaxers and sleeping aids.
“Clara!”
His heart thundered and he shook her violently, panic choking him as sure as sleep suffocated his mate. “Clara, please,” he begged, a gasped sob ripping through his constricting throat. “I need you.”
Crimson smeared across her lips and her mouth slackened. Her pulse slowed to an untraceable flutter and he rocked her in impotent desperation, weeping and cradling her frail body close to his heart.
The agony he suffered in the hours that followed was beyond any pain he’d ever known. Part of his soul amputated as her heart slowed and no longer beat. He wept over her, cradling her lifeless body in his arms. He would never be whole again.
Laying out her still, lifeless body, he righted her robe and curled his arms around her. His tear-chapped face pressing into her hair and skin as he wept for what would never be. He waited for the dawn to come, welcoming its scorching rays and eager to die beside her.
Chapter 43
White, snow-covered fields stretched as far as his eyes could see. Cybil had finally woken and walked beside him in palpable awe.
As the sun crested the horizon, painting the sky in fiery shades of pink, the temperature warmed. Dane’s feet were numb and soaked through, and he desperately wanted to collapse.
Colby raced up the hill, leaving pawprints in the snow and barking at something in the distance.
“We’re almost there,” Cain said, grinning down at Cybil.
“You said that two hours ago,” Dane grumbled.
“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re slow.”
His knees screamed for rest as they marched up the steep hill, the snow now several inches thick. The sun shined brightly against the white hills, making it difficult to see what waited on the other side of the steep knoll.