Chapter 119

Alyson

I sob at his side, watching him sleep so deeply that he hardly can make out a coherent mumble when I beg for him to heal. He's been bitten by a sick rogue, something that could have the capacity to kill him, and I can't allow that to happen.

I bow my head, resting it against he side of the bed where I kneel, where I haven't moved from in days, just waiting for him to lift his head and smile joyously. If only that would truly happen. I would cry harder than I'm crying now, so desperate to have my mate in my arms.

Someone taps my shoulder and I jerk away from the calm, caring touch. Olivera hasn't left me alone for long since this ordeal has occurred and now he is back from the cafeteria, holding a tray of lunch that I snub. I don't want to eat. I want my mate to wake up and be okay.

"Come on, blood pet, you need to eat," he huffs.

My watery eyes shoot open.

"Why didn't I think of that before?"

I grab for a knife off the tray, watching Olivera jump back, confused. He snatches the knife from me when I press the blade to my palm but it's too late. The knife cuts my hand. I wince more at the smell of my blood rather than the pain. I bring my hand to Ryan's sealed lips.

Olivera grabs me and flings me backwards before I can continue, tossing me on the floor away from my mate. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to heal him!" I grunt.

Olivera rolls his eyes. "He is sick with a very strong disease and you think that if you're exposed to that virus in your bloodstream that it will help? You'll die like that, Alyson."

"Then I'll die saving him," I breathe. "He is the Alpha. He is my mate. He must live."

"Thanks for the reminder," he gusts, sighing heavily. He grabs my arm and drags me across the bedroom, to the suite where he grabs a tissue and forces it into my bleeding palm. "Squeeze your hand into that tightly, and I mean tightly."

I inhale slow, minding the sting of my palm cut and oozing blood. It soaks into the tissue slowly and when I feel the bloodstream slow, Olivera forces my hand back open. He grabs the tissue and takes it over to my mate's side. I hurry along, watching as he rubs the bloody tissue along Ryan's lower lip.

My mate recoils from the taste but for once, he opens his eyes and seems rather cognitive for a moment. "Alyson," he grumbles, blinking slow. "Dammit, Alyson, no."

I push Olivera aside, ignoring his little mutter of a growl, and take Ryan's hand in both of mine. He stares down at the blood marking both of our fingers, a crimson mess. He shakes his head now, his free hand reaching out and cradling the back of my head, steadying my eyes onto his and I relish this moment in his gaze.

"No," he says, firmer this time. "Don't do that again, darling."

My brow furrows. "I want to help you heal, Ryan. You have to heal for me. I would drain my blood everyday if it meant it would save you from this pain," I groan.

His eyes turn dark, a sign his wolf is still in him somewhere, no matter how furious. "You will not do that again, or you will not be left in here with me again, Alyson. I am not Jacob. I am not a wolf out for your blood and even if you give it willingly, I will never be able to repay such a selfless act. Please, don't hurt yourself for me again."

I choke on my tears. "Fine, Ryan. I'm sorry. I love you so much."

He cracks a smile, brushing my hair back off my flushed cheeks. "I love you too, darling. But I have to rest. My wolf and I are weak. Thanks for wanting to help me, though."

I watch my mate retreat back into his unconscious state and when he is back in his dreaming daze, I begin sobbing again. It doesn't help, and it won't change his health, even if he is declining or healing; I just want this ordeal to end.

Olivera nudges my shoulder. "Stop crying. The only thing you can do now is wait."

I rub my tired, itchy eyes. For a moment, I believe his words but then it dawns on me. The only thing I can do now is wait; or I can fix this issue once and for all.

"I have to speak to Fritz or Marshal or—" I stand, jittery and flustered.

Olivera grabs me and steadies me by the shoulders. "Calm down first. What're you going to do now, sweetheart? He just said you can't heal him with you blood and that's the best idea anyone has had thus far."

"Maybe I can't heal him," I groan. "But the elders have been studying this disease more than anyone else and I have to at least give it my best shot. If I don't and he—he dies—I will never forgive myself. I have to attempt every avenue. I have to."

Olivera seems hesitant but at last, he relaxes and drops his hold off my shoulders. "I suppose we should get going, then."

Both of us rush out of the palace, shifting outside and I rely on Olivera's scent tracking more than my own. I've been feeling so drained and weak for months now, I couldn't possibly lead us to the elders now. I allow Olivera to take the lead, watching as he leads us in and out of the woods.

At last, we stop and I hang off of exhaustion and hyperventilation.

Olivera shifts, looking around the random, empty spot in the woods. It looks all too familiar to me, though, and I shift back, my legs weak and weary as I hit the ground. My side pings in an unfamiliar pain. I ignore it for now, leading Olivera down into the cave before I knock hard on the door I've faced before.

Fritz answers with a slight grin, faltering when he sees Olivera behind my shoulder.

I stop the door as it almost slams shut in our faces. "No, Fritz. He's friendly. He isn't going to fight. I'm here for Ryan, please. I have to help him."

For a moment, I think the elder will turn me away but thankfully our history is so tightly interwoven. He welcomes me into his space with a smile, offering Olivera a subtle growl in warning instead.