CHAPTER 11Elias had barely moved in a week.Lucian stayed by his side. Always watching. Always waiting.The once vibrant human now lay pale and frail, his body fighting an unseen battle. His breaths were shallow, his fingers barely twitching when Lucian reached out to brush against them.And the worst part?Gabriel had not returned.Lucian clenched his jaw as he wrung out a damp cloth, running it gently over Elias’ forehead. The fever refused to break. His body refused to heal.And Lucian…He was starving.The hunger gnawed at his insides, an ever-present torment that worsened by the day.But he refused.Refused to drink from Elias again.He had already taken too much before.And now, as he looked down at the human—his fragile, shaking form—Lucian felt something foreign. Something dangerous.Fear.A deep, clawing fear that he had not felt in centuries.Elias was dying.Lucian could feel it.And he was powerless.He exhaled slowly, forcing the thought away.Not yet.Not now.He adjust
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