Page 29 of Blood Bond

I glance to Katherine’s grave before taking his hand. It is her eyes I keep looking through and I don’t know why.

ChapterTwenty-One

We hurry our pace through the trees, heading towards the house. Seth moves with hard, purposeful steps, casting wary glances at the slivers of sunlight piercing through the gaps in the tree canopy, where leaves fail to completely shield us.

“I thought you could walk in the sun,” I say, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

He nods, his voice strained. “The sun is too hot.”

His height and long strides give him an advantage, and I struggle to match his speed. As we move, I see his face. “Seth, you’re bleeding.” Blood oozes from his nose and ears, adding urgency to my steps as I try to catch up with him.

He seems to falter, staggering slightly as if overcome by sudden weakness. He steadies himself against the trunk of a tree, not stopping but visibly struggling to maintain his balance.

Panic sets in. We have to get to the house – and fast. The sun, which seemed so benign to me, is a lethal threat to him. I don’t understand the change, but there is no time to ask.

“Oh, god,” I mutter under my breath, fear and concern for Seth propelling me forward. The urgency to reach the safety of the house becomes paramount. I push myself to move faster, ready to offer whatever support I can to help him make it back before the sun’s rays inflict more harm. “Lean on me,” I urge, sliding up beside him and extending my arm to bear his weight.

Seth, stubborn and independent, shakes his head and pushes off from the tree, attempting to make it on his own. But his strength falters; he drops to one knee and then the other, his hands clutching at the grass. Blood now drips from the corners of his eyes.

“Seth …” My voice is a mix of plea and worry.

In a spur of the moment decision, I take off the thick jacket Killian gave me before I got on the bike. It's not mine, too big for me, but it had offered protection. Now, it's Seth who needs protection. I drape the jacket over his back, creating a barrier between him and the harmful rays of the sun.

“Lean on me,” I say again, more firmly.

This time, Seth accepts my help, taking shelter under the cover of the jacket as we emerge from the trees into the garden area. “Help,” I shout, my voice reaching its peak, a desperate scream for assistance. “Someone help me.”

The others, having followed Seth's earlier orders, have already gone into the house with Tasha. I'm alone out here with Seth, trying to get him to safety.

My heart pounds in my chest as I half-carry, half-drag Seth towards the house, his weight leaning heavily on me. Every step feels urgent, a race against time and the sun's merciless rays.

The front door of the house seems miles away, but I press on, my shouts for help echoing unanswered.

“Anyone.” My voice is a mix of panic and desperation as we approach the house.

Suddenly, the door bursts open. Killian, with Naneve close behind, races down the steps towards us. “What the hell happened?” Killian demands, his voice laced with urgency.

“Is he hurt?” Naneve demands.

Their faces register fear and shock as they reach us. Killian quickly takes Seth's other side, aiding me in supporting him. But as we move, the unforgiving sunlight catches Seth, and I watch in horror as blisters erupt rapidly on the exposed side of his face. His pain is palpable, and it tears at me.

Chaos surrounds us, a frantic scramble to get inside. Killian and Naneve help hustle Seth—and by extension, me—into the house, away from the deadly rays of the sun.

“What was he thinking?” Naneve chastises as we cross the threshold into the safety of the house.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, guilt weighing heavily on me. This is my fault. If I hadn't run away ...

But there's no time to dwell on what ifs.

As we cross the threshold, Seth's condition worsens. He is unsteady, teetering on the brink of collapse. Killian, acting quickly, gently but firmly removes me from Seth's side. Seth sinks to his knees, and I stand beside him, filled with terror. “Seth?—”

The door slams shut behind us as someone closes it, and Naneve rushes to close the window shutters, casting the room into darkness. The tense atmosphere inside starkly contrasts with the brightening day outside.

Seth’s hands clasp onto the floor, and his entire body seems to quiver with pain. “Sire,” Killian crouches before Seth, his voice laced with concern. He rests a comforting hand on Seth’s shoulder.

Seth keeps his head lowered, his dark hair burned away in patches, leaving raw, peeling skin exposed. “Sir,” Elena, the woman I met briefly outside, approaches with a trembling voice. “Seth …”

With Killian’s assistance, Seth rises, revealing the extent of the damage to his face. An involuntary gasp escapes me as our eyes meet. Pain emanates from his eyes, and his face bears the cruel scars of the sun’s embrace. Blisters mar one side of his face, his lips are swollen, cracked, and blood trickles from his nose and the corners of his eyes. Agony etches his features.

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