Page 51 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
My cold fingers made contact with Francis’—just as cold—skin. The cotton of Francis’ trousers had dried out on the wound, hiding the injury within.Gods, have mercy.
The arrow had not gone through his leg fully, therefore the arrow head was still inside, keeping the blood from escaping. I did not dare take out the arrow from the wound myself: it would only damage the tissue further. That was the only thing I knew for a fact when it came to treating any kind of wound—do not touch anything, and go to a healer.
The nearby healer was a whole night away.
I looked around, desperate to find something—anything!—useful. Yet, nothing but the snow and naked trees surrounded me.All right, then.
My trembling hands reached for Francis’ coat. “Please,” I whispered to no one in particular, uncovering the bottle of alcohol from his inside pocket. The flask was surprisingly half full, thank the Gods.
Setting the flask aside, I ripped the inside hem of my dress.
I’d seen the healers do bandages before, surely it could not be that difficult.
Every muscle in me tightened as I poured the alcohol onto the wound, waiting for his screams to come—yet they did not. Perhaps it was for the best—the quieter we were the better.
Wrapping the cloth tightly around his leg, I placed snow in between the material before tying the ends in a strong knot—this had to do for now.
Now I just need to wake him.Putting the remains of the alcohol underneath Francis’ nose, I waited. I waited, and waited,and waited! Francis’ eyes stayed shut. The panic overwhelmed me; my whole body shivered, sending me a fresh dose of nausea.
He could not die from a wound like this one. Then, why wasn’t he waking up? I shook his shoulders again as my vision began to blur.Please!
Silver.Francis’ words fought their way through the chaos of my thoughts. Silver. What in the Kingdom did that mean? How would you even treat a silver wound anyway? How would you treat avampirewound?
Dear Gods.
The realization hit me, the nausea worsened. There was only one way out of this—only one solution.
My hands shook, unsheathing the sword from its scabbard. My heart galloped.
I had no choice.
The wind quieted down, as if intrigued by what I was going to do next.
I made a long cut across my arm. If this would not work, I might’ve just signed my deal with the Moon herself. If this would not work, we would both bleed out dry, doomed to lay here in the darkness of the forest until its residents found and devoured our long dead flesh.
As the blood from my arm dripped down his lips, I begged him to wake up. He could not have saved my life and thendiedbecause of my foolish plan to break into the Royal palace! He could not! I refused!
Please, Francis, please open your eyes.
For what seemed to be an eternity, I held my arm above Francis’ lips, committed to make this work. My arm shook when cold air brushed the open wound I drew with my sword.Please!
Crimson lips slightly moved before a force of sharp, excruciating pain deprived me of any thoughts. A suppressedcry escaped my lips when Francis’ sharp, long fangs pierced my flesh, sending goosebumps down my skin.
My arm became limp in the strong hold of his hands. The agony spread through my body, setting my bones on fire. Trapped, I could not escape the torture, could not endure it either. The fire spread with such speed, it made me want to beg for a quicker death.
The pain reached my heart right before stopping all together, allowing the sweet, strange warmth to envelope me from the inside out.
My breathing quickened, my pulse spiraled.
Dozens of roses grew in the depths of my stomach, their thorns prickled and scratched my insides in an odd satisfaction.
I wanted more.
I cared not if I survived this long, dark night; I cared not if Francis would never stop, drying me empty, killing me so slowly.
Joy overwhelmed me, refusing my mind any say in the situation. My chest tightened as a quiet whimper left my mouth without permission.
The sound made Francis freeze in place; his sharp teeth deserted my flesh as the brightness in his eyes slowly creeped in.
