Page 10 of Cursed Magic

The knife protruded from between his ribs at a sharp upward angle, the blade disappearing into his flesh. The skin around the entry point was inflamed. Blood oozed steadily from the wound, trickling down Ryker’s side and pooling on the seat beneath him.

With trembling fingers, I gently touched the skin around the knife, and a buzz shot up my arm like wildfire. I never knew when I would feel this strange connection between us, but when the sensation did come, it was both pleasant and unwanted.

Right now, I’d take it because it was confirmation that he was going to live… At least, I’d embrace that delusion to get through this.

Relieved that he hadn’t reacted negatively to my touch, I moved closer to the wound, noticing his skin became warmer the closer I got to the entry point.

My heart dropped into my stomach. Was the warmth a good sign or a bad one? Either way, I had to do the best I could with what we had. I continued to palpate the area near the blade.

Ryker winced, and his muscles turned rigid then twitched.

I jerked my hand back. Had I hurt him? I swallowed hard, my throat tight with worry. “Raven, the dagger went in at an angle between his ribs. It’s not a straight stab wound.”

Raven exhaled loudly. “That’s actually good news.” Her voice sounded less strained. “Based on the angle and what I can hear, it doesn’t sound like it hit any major arteries. The blood loss isn’t as rapid or forceful as it would be with arterial damage.”

A little bit of relief washed over me, but he’d still lost too much blood. “Should I try to put pressure on the wound to make the bleeding stop?”

Raven met my gaze in the rearview mirror, her usually warm cognac eyes dark with worry and fear. “It’d be best to remove the knife so we can truly put pressure on the wound to clot the whole thing. Leaving it in risks further damage, especially if it shifts and prolongs the bleeding. We need the entire wound to clot, and you need to remove it while he still has enough strength for his wolf magic to help heal him.”

My stomach dropped at the thought of pulling out the blade. I’d seen plenty of movies and TV shows, and they always said to leave the knife in. But Raven was centuriesold and had no doubt dealt with countless injuries during her long life. If she thought removing it was best, I had to trust her judgment. She hadn’t steered us wrong yet; in fact, she’d been our best ally.

Briar turned around in her seat, her expression twisted with fear and uncertainty. “Are you sure we should remove the knife?” Her voice trembled. “What if it makes him bleed out faster? We have to think this through. This man sacrificed himself for me. If something goes wrong…”

The weight of Briar’s worries pressed on me as I tried to keep up a steady facade. Deep down, my stomach fluttered, and it wasn’t from warm feelings. Was Raven really making the right call? Would I regret trusting her in this life-and-death situation?

Still, doingnothingwasn’t an option, and Raven’s logic made sense. Regardless, the decision had to be made quickly. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for the consequences, but waiting wasn’t a luxury I had.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. We had no better choice. Every second that ticked by was another drop of blood Ryker couldn’t afford to lose.

“I’m going to do it,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt inside. “With the blade left inside, he’ll continue to bleed, and his heart is getting weaker.”

Briar’s eyes widened, a mix of what seemed to be fear and doubt clouding her gaze. In less than an hour, we’d broken her out of a makeshift prison, been attacked by enemies no one but I could see, and now I was asking her to trust a vampire, a member of the one species wolves inherently didn’t get along with because vampire magic came from taking life—blood—which clashed with how wolf magic connected with nature and helped maintain balance.

I didn’t want to upset Briar more, but I did believe thatremoving the knife was our best bet. I gritted my teeth, hating that I was about to cause Ryker more pain but knowing it was necessary to save his life.

I leaned over Ryker to reach the wound. Taking a deep breath, I grasped the hilt firmly with both hands. The cool metal contrasted sharply with the warm, sticky blood coating Ryker’s skin and my hands.

As soon as my fingers wrapped around the handle, Ryker let out a low, pained groan. His body tensed, his muscles going rigid beneath my touch. I froze, my heart racing as I looked at his face. His eyes remained closed, but his brows furrowed, emphasizing the scar down the middle of his left one.

My chest constricted as I inhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure Ryker could even hear me in his unconscious state.

With one swift movement, I yanked the blade from Ryker’s side. His eyes snapped open, and an anguished scream erupted from his throat. He thrashed against the seat, muscles bulging under his taut skin. More blood seeped from the wound.

“Briar, help me restrain him!” I yelled, tossing the bloodstained knife to the floorboard. I climbed over his waist, straddling him.

I pressed my weight down to try to keep him still as he continued to thrash. His muscles rippled beneath me, and if he’d been in full health, he would’ve easily thrown me off. I placed my hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin through his blood-soaked shirt and the faint buzz that sparked when we touched.

Briar scrambled over the center console and reached around me to hold down his hands. But as soon as she touched him, he fought her off, causing even morebleeding.

“Ryker, it’s me. Ember.” I leaned forward, trying to make him focus on my face. “You’re safe. We had to remove the knife.”

His wild eyes locked with mine. The sheen that sometimes covered them was gone, revealing their gorgeous brown color. The gold could barely be seen.

Then the gold sparked, and his expression softened. The corners of his mouth tipped upward slightly. “Em…ber,” he rasped. “I was…worried. You’re…safe.”

My heart skipped a beat.

His hand trembled as he raised it and touched my cheek, leaving a warm wetness behind. A smudge of blood, I assumed.

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