His Trouble Maker

Chapter 109

Chapter 109

GRAYSON

“I’m not watching you kill her!”

“Pierce-”

“No. Let him!” I throw a hand out, stopping Theo from going after him. “Let him go.”

I fucking get it. That shithead loves her. In his own twisted, useless way.

I get it.

But I’m not him.

I kneel by her again. Her lips are parted. Blood drying in the corners. Her pulse is thready as hell.

Fuck.

I swipe the sweat off her collarbone. She flinches. Not even awake, but still trying to fight. That’s my girl.

Theo’s pacing behind me, muttering under his breath like that’s gonna fix shit. I don’t look at him.

“Get me a knife,” I snap.

“What?” Theo freezes. “What the hell for?”

“I need blood. Mine.”

“You’re not making her drink again-”

“No. I’m claiming her.”

Silence.

Then Pierce laughs. Bitter. Loud. From the top of the hatch. “You’re insane.”

I don’t look at him. “Get me the damn knife.”

“You’re gonna do the mating here?” Theo asks, voice low, like maybe he didn’t hear me right. “Right now?”

“She’s not gonna make it to a fucking altar.”

“You’re not thinking-”

“She’s dying”

If I don’t do something, she’s going to die.

I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing. My hands shake, but I keep them steady enough to unzip the black kit bag on the floor. There’s a drawer inste hidden under the first flap of gauze and burn gef, behind the false wall I stitched in years ago I already know what’s on there. I kept it the way she taught

me.

Obsidian blades wrapped in salt cloth.

magic.

Old magic. Blood magic. My mother’s magic. Stuff that got buried when the new regime took over, when the Elders outlawed half the shit that used to save lives, Stuff no one talks about anymore unless they want to be exiled.

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Chapter 109

before she died. Taught me with her hands over mine and blood on

Pierce sure

I don’t

anchor her

possible!” Theo shouts, his voice cracking as he lunges

snap, louder than I

back like I burned him,

move. Quick. Cross the room in three strides and grab his wrist. “Give it

the way.” He’s panting. Eyes wide. “You don’t

know exactly what I’m

rest–she

“She’s out of time.”

curl like claws around the edge of the sheet. The bulb af flickers once. Her eyes shoot open–silver,

not rest. That is not

Theo looks away.

following orders. She’s mine. I’ll tear the rot out with my own fucking teeth

He hesitates.

a low rasping sound like metal

He stares at the bag. Then

to God,” I mutter, “if you try to

yank the bag back, drop to my knees beside the cot, and start

at the point. My fingers are steady

and burning and still beautiful–and I know there’s only

One

Her to me.

Or nothing.

cloth

the rag and toss it aside. The blade glints once in the low

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Chapter 109

than I

Good.

snap without looking. “Boil water. Tear open anything with alcohol.

jug slams. Metal clatters.

leaning over her, one knee wedged to the cot to steady her twitching body. I press the flat of my hand to her collarbone–right a púlse point where she used to bite me when she wanted

“If

eyes are open now but looking straight through me. Pupils blown. Irises wildsilver. Her lips move t something’s

harder. Anchor her

jolts. Her body bows again like someone’s hooking wire through

Not her voice.

Not her.

That means

100%

over her head, toss it aside. She’s burning. Skin flushed deep red, veins dark, coiled

when we were kids and she tried to jump that fence behind

blood. New blood.

fingers

Find the pulse.

made me memorize by beating it into my

Root. Blood. Anchor.

Jessica shrieks.

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