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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN

last update Last Updated: 2025-03-29 19:31:45

DARIUS’ POV

★★★★★★★

Seriously, these damn stab wounds still throbbed like a bastard drum. Every time I shifted, it sent a jolt of pain through my side, but I couldn’t stay still. Emmeline needed me. The image of her terrified face when Kaelen’s goons dragged her away kept flashing in my mind. That bastard wasn't going to mark her under the full moon. I won’t let that happen.

Sylas fussed over me, trying to get me to lie back down, but I waved him off. “I’m fine,” I lied, the words catching in my throat. Fine? I felt like I'd been ripped apart and put back together with rusty nails. But compared to what Emmeline must be going through, this pain was nothing.

“You’re bleeding again, Darius,” Sylas said, his voice laced with concern. Lately he’s been my closest friend, more like my right-hand man. He knew the way I loved Emmeline, knew how much she meant to me.

“Doesn’t matter,” I grunted, pushing myself up to a sitting position against the rough bark of a tree. The forest floor was damp
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    DARIUS’ POV★★★☆★★★My eyelids felt like they were glued together with dried blood and sweat. Every inch of my body screamed in protest as I tried to shift, but a soft weight on my arm stopped me. Emmeline. Her head was resting on the edge of the bed, her dark hair spilling over the white sheets. She looked so damn tired, but her grip on my arm was tight, like she was afraid I’d disappear if she let go.A wave of guilt washed over me. She shouldn’t have had to go through this. It was my job to protect her, and I’d almost failed. The memory of Kaelen’s sneering face and the cold steel of his blade flashed in my mind, followed by the searing pain in my side. I clenched my jaw, the anger bubbling up inside me despite my weakened state. That son of a bitch would pay.I managed a weak cough, and Emmeline’s head snapped up. Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, widened with relief. “Darius!” Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.“Hey,” I croaked, my throat feeling like sandpaper. “You okay?” St

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