But his eyes were closing. His breathing was shallow, irregular. Each breath was weaker than the last.
He was slipping away, and I was losing him, and I couldn’t…
In the haze of my desperation, a memory surfaced. It was the night of her accident. I’d watched Uncle Asher feed her his blood in a bid to save her. But then she’d said, “You know it won’t work. I was never your Fated Mate. Just a woman you loved.”
It was something she’d always said to me when she told me stories at night.
“The bond between true Mates is the strongest magic in the world, Isa. It can heal any wound, break any curse. They say the blood of a Fated Mate can even cure wolfsbane poisoning. Because love is more powerful than any poison.”
I’d always thought it was just a fairy tale. A story to help me sleep. But what if it wasn’t?
I didn’t let myself think. I just acted on instinct, on desperate hope, on the tiny chance that maybe, just maybe, the old stories were true.
I brought my wrist to my mouth and bit down hard. Hard enough to break skin. Hard enough that blood welledimmediately.
Then I pressed my bleeding wrist to Dimitri’s lips, my hands still bound, making the angle awkward.
“Drink,” I said, my voice breaking. “Please, Dimitri. Please drink.”
For a terrifying moment, nothing happened. His lips remained slack, unresponsive.
Then, weakly, I felt him swallow.
Hope flared in my chest as the black veins around the wound stopped spreading. And after a few seconds, they started to recede. Slowly, so slowly, I thought I might be imagining it. But they were definitely fading. Pulling back from his heart, retreating toward the wound itself.
Light began to emanate from Dimitri’s chest. Soft at first, like the glow of a candle. Then brighter, stronger, until it was almost blinding. It spread through his body like liquid gold. Healing. Purifying. Destroying the wolfsbane poison.
I watched in awe as the gray color faded from his skin. As the blue left his lips. As his breathing deepened, steadied, grew strong again.
And then his eyes opened.
“Isabella?” His voice was hoarse but stronger than it had been for someone who’d been dying moments ago.
“You’re okay.” I collapsed against him, sobs wracking my body with such force I could barely breathe. “Oh God, you’re okay.”
His arms came around me despite the wound in his chest, holding me close, one hand cradling the back of my head.
He murmured against my hair, wonder in his voice. “How did you—”
“My mother. She told me a story once. About true Mates. About how their blood could cure any poison.” I pulled back just enough to look at him, hardly believing he was really here, really alive, really holding me. “I didn’t know if it would work. I just had to try.”
“It worked.” His hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing away my tears. “You brought me back.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I thought—
“Never.” He smiled weakly. “I told you, Isabella. I’m going to makeyou my wife. And we haven’t even had our wedding yet. Did you really think I was going to go without making due on that promise?”
I laughed, tears falling freely from my eyes.
The sound of a helicopter filled the air, signaling the arrival of Edmund.
“Come on,” Dimitri said, struggling to sit up with my help. “Let’s go home. Our daughter is probably worried sick.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Isabella’s POV
I didn’t leave Dimitri’s side for three days. Even after the doctors assured me that he was fine, I’d suggested he remain in the hospital in case any complications arose. I wasn’t taking my chances.