Chapter 6
Sera's POV
I should not have been out of that bed.
My body still ached from the fall, and the grief was sitting in my chest solid and immovable, but the scent pulled at me in a way I couldn't ignore.
I slipped out of the room while Dr. Angel was occupied elsewhere and I followed it.
It led me away from the medical wing, past the edge of the grounds, into the abandoned part of the territory where the trees grew close together and the pack rarely bothered to patrol.
That was where I found him.
He was slumped against the base of a tree, one hand pressed to his side, and even in the dark I could see the blood soaking through his shirt.
He was broad-shouldered, powerfully built, the kind of man who looked dangerous even collapsed and bleeding. His dark hair was matted against his forehead. His jaw was tight with pain.
Despite everything, despite how badly hurt he clearly was, something about him radiated strength I could feel from several feet away.
This was not an ordinary injury.
I could smell it now, underneath the blood.
I crouched beside him carefully.
"Hey," I said. "Can you hear me?"
His eyes snapped open.
His hand shot out and closed around my wrist before I could pull back, his grip startlingly strong for someone who looked like he was moments from losing consciousness.
"Don't touch me," he growled.
"I'm trying to help you."
"I don't know you."
"No," I agreed. "And I don't particularly want to know you either, but you're bleeding out on my pack's territory, so we're a little past introductions."
His eyes, dark and sharp despite the pain clouding them, studied me for a long moment.
"Whoever did this to me might still be close," he said. "You should leave."
"I've had an extremely long night," I said. "I just lost...." I stopped myself. "I don't have the patience for this right now. Let go of my wrist."
He didn't let go.
"You don't understand," he said, his voice rough. "This isn't safe."
"Neither is bleeding to death under a tree," I said. "Which is currently what you're doing. So either let me look at this, or keep being stubborn and see how that works out for you."
Something flickered across his face, something almost like reluctant amusement, even through the pain.
"You're bossy for someone who found a stranger dying in the woods."
"You're rude for someone who needs my help."
"I didn't ask for your help."
"No," I said, "you asked me to leave you here bleeding, which was a genuinely terrible plan, so I'm choosing to ignore it."
His grip loosened, just slightly.
"Fine," he said. "Do whatever it is you think you're doing. But if this goes badly, that's on you."
"Noted."
I couldn't help but notice, even in the middle of everything, the way his eyes tracked me as I moved closer.
There was something unsettling about how aware I suddenly felt of my own hands, my own breath, the small distance between us.
I told myself it was just the adrenaline.
The moment my fingers touched the wound at his side, I felt it.
It wasn't just blood loss. There was something moving through him, passing through his bloodstream in a way that made my palm burn where I touched him.
Poison.
Not an ordinary kind either. I could feel it fighting against his wolf, some strain I didn't recognize.
"This wasn't just a blade," I said quietly. "You've been poisoned."
His jaw tightened. "I know."
"Do you know with what?"
"No." He watched my face carefully. "You can tell that just by touching me?"
"Apparently."
"That's not a normal thing to be able to do."
"Neither is surviving a poison strong enough to drop a man like you," I said. "So let's not compare notes on what's normal tonight."
That earned me a smile, quickly swallowed by another wave of pain.
I sat back on my heels and studied him. Ordinary medicine wouldn't touch something like this. Whatever it was, it would kill him long before any antidote could be identified.
There was only one thing I could do, and it was something I had never done for a stranger before.
"This is going to feel strange," I said.
"What are you...."
"Don't move."
I placed both hands against his side and let my healing energy move into him.
It hit back immediately.
The poison resisted, fighting against what I was pushing into him, and I felt it climb up through my own hands into my arms, a burning ache that made my vision blur.
Damon's whole body went rigid.
"Stop," he said, his voice strained. "Whatever you're doing, stop. It's not worth it."
"I'm almost done."
"You're pale," he said, and for a barely conscious, poisoned, bleeding stranger, he was insistent. "Stop."
"If you're going to die," I said through gritted teeth, "you can at least do it somewhere that isn't my territory."
"You're insufferable."
"You're welcome."
I felt him go still beneath my hands despite the pain.
His wolf was pushing back against the poison now too, powerful and furious, and between the two of us we forced it back, inch by inch, away from the center of his chest.
I felt it stop just short of his heart.
I couldn't pull it out completely. Some of it settled deep, dormant, buried too far for me to reach without killing us both trying.
But it would not kill him tonight.
I pulled my hands back, breathing hard, my vision spotting at the edges.
He stared at me like he was seeing something he couldn't quite explain.
"You just saved my life."
"Don't make it weird."
"Who are you?"
I looked at him properly then. There was something in his face that I found myself studying a beat too long.
I noticed the line of his jaw. The way his eyes held mine like he wasn't used to looking away from anything.
I told myself again that it was just the adrenaline.
"Who are you?" I countered.
His mouth curved, just slightly. "That's not how this works."
"It's exactly how this works," I said. "I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way."
"You expect me to just accept that."
"I expect you to be grateful I didn't leave you to bleed out under a tree."
"I am grateful," he said, and something in his voice shifted, quieter now. "That doesn't mean I'm not curious."
"Curiosity isn't my problem tonight."
He studied me for a long moment, and I could see him deciding something behind his eyes, filing me away as a puzzle he intended to solve later.
I started to rise, my legs unsteady beneath me, but his hand shot out again and caught my wrist.
This time something changed.
I felt it before I understood it... it felt like a mate bond.
No, it couldn't be.
My own pulse quickened under his grip, and I hated how aware I was of every place his fingers touched my skin.
His grip tightened.
"That scent," he whispered, staring at me like he'd never seen anything like me before. "Who the hell are you?"
