Page 70 of Bound By Love
When he pulled a few more rocks away, Ronan exposed Caro’s bruised and bloodied back. The original position of her hand made him think she was lying face up, but he’d been wrong.
He carefully removed the rocks from her spine before gently rolling her over. The large gash across her middle exposed some of her ribs. No blood issued from her; she had no blood left to spill, which meant she could be dead.
However, he’d seen vamps like this before, ones who bled out so much they went into a hibernation-like state. All their functions ceased, but they sometimes returned to life once they received enough blood.
Caro didn’t have a stake in her heart, and her head remained attached, but she’d lost enough to bleed out completely. He felt for her pulse but found none, which would explain Saber’s reaction. Their bond would break if she wasn’t breathing and didn’t have a pulse.
Shit!
It doesn’t mean she’s dead. Her heart and head are still intact.
Caro’s face was a bloody, bruised mess. Her cheeks were so swollen he could barely see her eyes, and the color of her lips was comparable to a blueberry.
There was no rise and fall of her chest, and though her face was too bruised and dirty to be pale, an unmarked section of her arm was far too white. He didn’t say anything as he carefully lifted her from the rubble and settled her beside Saber.
The second he set her down, Saber started twitching. Lucien lifted a sword to knock him out again, but Ronan stayed his hand.
“If anything’s going to save her, it will be his blood.”
“And if it’s too late?” Lucien asked.
“Then a stake is a better option than a sword. Let’s leave his head intact.”
Lucien debated this for a second before nodding.
“No,” Brie whispered.
Ronan didn’t bother looking at her; he didn’t have time to coddle anyone. She had to know her brother was as close to death as his mate. If Saber didn’t willingly choose to die, Ronanwoulddecide for him.
He liked the man, he’d come to trust and respect Saber, but they couldn’t allow a vampire as powerful as him to turn Savage again. The demons may not be a threat anymore, but they’d never eradicate all the Savages, and if Saber decided to lead them, it would only lead to another bloodbath and brutal war.
Ronan would never allow such a thing to happen.
When Saber’s fingers twitched again and inched toward Caro, Ronan stepped protectively in between him and Kadence as Saber’s eyes cracked open.
“Easy,” Ronan coaxed. “I’ve seen vamps like this before, Saber. They go into a state of hibernation to survive. Let’s hope that’s what her body did, but she needs your blood if she’s going to survive, and you have to remain calm enough to give it to her.”
Saber had to be starved and didn’t have a whole lot of blood to give her, but there was no way Ronan was going to provide him with more. They couldn’t make him stronger when he was such a threat.
Saber’s red eyes met Ronan’s. Unlike the rest of them, red and black color continued to swirl throughout Saber’s skin as his attention shifted to Caro.
Ronan knew when a powerful being was on the verge of losing it, and because of that, his fingers tensed around his sword’s hilt. He waved Kadence back with his free hand.
She planted her feet as she stood her ground. She’d faced off against demons with him but had to be there for that; she didn’t have to be here for this.
They’d faced enough danger lately, and hewouldprotect her when he could. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to agree as she refused to leave him. It was one of the reasons he loved her and also why, if he were human, he’d have a full head of gray hair by now.
They glared at each other before a shifting of rocks drew his attention back to Saber.
CHAPTERFIFTY-EIGHT
Saber didn’t knowhow to explain his emotions. They’d become such a roller coaster of turmoil that he couldn’t begin to think. Everything in him was a mass of wrath and melancholy, the likes of which he’d never known.
He never would have believed anything could top the loss of his mother, father, and sister so many years ago. But every beat of his heart sent shards of agony through his bloodstream until it felt like his veins were nothing but shredded remnants of what they once were.
And it wasn’t because he was ravenous for blood. It had nothing to do with his hunger and everything to do with his breaking heart.
Did he have a heart anymore? It continued to pump; he felt it smashing against his ribs and pulsing sorrow through him, but it felt like a dead weight as it hung in his chest.
