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“Sit up!” I cried, pushing at him. “I can’t get at the entry wound like this!”
My words did nothing. And me shoving against him did even less. He was losing consciousness, his frame of packed muscle turning heavy as stone against me.
“Oh, no you don’t!” I snapped. How dare he try to die on me! “I amnot done with you yet!”
Angry, panicking, and unsure what else to do, I grabbed a fistful of his hair, near the scalp, and pulled as hard as I could.
Gahn Errok’s head snapped up, a weak snarl forming on his lips.
I moved around to his side, still pulling his hair.
“Come on, come on, this way!” I commanded, his hair in one fist, the jar of Vrika’s blood clutched in the other.
The pain of the hair-pulling had woken him up just enough for him to lean back once more. With a heavy thump, he collapsed onto his back in the bed, the mattress bouncing with his immense weight.
“Just stay like that,” I said urgently, moving quickly. Before I knew it, I was straddling him, my thighs spread across his waist, just above his pelvis.
“Sight stars on me,” I ordered him, maintaining fierce eye contact with his hazy gaze as I leaned forward and sloshed Vrika’s blood onto his chest wound.
His chest rose and fell weakly, but he managed a strangled reply.
“My mate,” he choked out. “I... obey.”
And he did.
His sight stars pulsed and pulled slowly inwards, focusing on my face through his dizziness.
“Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me,” I said as I broke eye contact to look at his wound. Relief coursed through me, tightening my throat and chest as I watched the Vrika’s blood slow, and eventually stop, his bleeding. I poured more into the wound, wanting as much of it as possible to get inside his chest before the surface wound closed up. It wouldn’t help to simply seal off the outside if he was still bleeding internally. But it seemed to be working – the Vrika’s blood surged down into the cavernous wound of his chest, stopping the bleeding from the inside out. Lying on his back like this was good – gravity was helping get the Vrika’s blood deeper inside.
Breathing out heavily, I leaned back, sitting upright on top of him.
Is he still conscious?
He was. His eyes were heavy-lidded. Nearly closed.
But in the hazy crack of his weakly glittering gaze, his sight stars remained steadfast.
Trained on me.
Always, always, on me.
