“Aleera, stay awake for me,” Kalen murmurs. His voice becomes more and more distant, and I feel my clothes being tugged off. My limbs feel floppy, and Lycus moves me around like a puppet, yet the feeling induced by the blood loss has me not caring about anything as I focus on breathing. It seems like a mammoth task—one I’m not sure I want to keep forcing because it is too much effort.
A sharp prick in my arm tells me someone has jammed a needle in me. Despite the pain, I can’t open my eyelids which feel like they’re made of concrete.
“I don’t get it. Why does she need blood? Lycus healed her,” a voice comes through.
“She has no magic, Kalen. She might as well be human. She will be fine,” Lycus murmurs, and their voices grow louder.
“She looks so pale,” Kalen says, concern evident in h
