Chapter 19: Her Blood

Lucian's POV

I came back in pieces.

First there was the cold, and then the weight on my chest, and then a taste in my mouth that I knew.

Blood.

Hers.

I knew it from the first drop, because it was the one taste in the world that my body had learned to want.

"Drink," Margo said, from very far away. "Please, Lucian. Drink."

I drank.

Her wrist was pressed against my mouth.

She was kneeling on my bed in the Ward house, with her shoulder wrapped in white bandage.

The silver was out.

A Hierarchy surgeon had pulled it from my chest in the car while she held my head, and I had known none of it.

The blood ran down my throat, and the wound under my ribs closed a little with every swallow.

I felt her through the bond, all of her at once.

She was terrified. Under the terror she was furious.

Under the fury there was something bright and steady that did not move.

She did not let go of me.

"Enough," I said at last, against her skin.

"Not yet."

"Margo. You're grey."

"I'm fine."

"Your shoulder is bleeding through."

"Then I'll bleed," she said, and her voice broke. "You stopped breathing. I put my hand on your back and you weren't breathing."

I took her wrist from my mouth.

I licked the cut closed, slowly, and watched her eyes go dark.

"I'm here," I said.

"Say it again."

"I'm here."

She leaned down and put her mouth on mine.

She tasted of her own blood and mine, and the bond opened wider than I had ever felt it.

I felt her fear leave her body in a rush.

I felt it turn into want so fast that it hurt.

"Margo, you're wounded."

"So are you."

"I could hurt you."

"You'd have to try," she said, and bit my lower lip.

I took her face in my hands.

I felt her heartbeat and her breath.

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