Page 90 of Rescued By the Beast
"You're not going to die, do you hear me?!"
I jump up and run back inside, straight to the bathroom. I grab all the towels I can find, pressing them against his chest as I return to him. I can barely breathe as I tear the fabric into strips with my own claws, improvising tourniquets. I wrap one around his arm, then the other, tear his trousers and do the same with his leg. Then I press another towel against his abdomen and ribs, trying to contain the worst.
"Help!" I yell into the void, my voice breaking. "He needs help, help! Ethan!"
Mark lets out a weak, almost imperceptible sigh.
His chest barely moves.
"No... no, no..."
My eyes drop to his trousers, and a flash of insight hits me.
With one hand, I continue to press on his wound, and with the other, I begin to feel his pockets. In the left one, I find what I was looking for: his mobile phone.
I place the device on the grass, hold his hand and press his thumb against the screen. As soon as it unlocks, I waste no time. I go straight to his contacts. The last call was to Ted. I press to call, praying he'll answer quickly.
"Beast, the sentinels have killed the monsters..."
"Ted!" I interrupt, my voice squeaky. "Mark is seriously injured, I need Ethan! Something's wrong, he's not healing! I think he's been poisoned or it's some kind of magic..."
"Who are you? Why are you using Mark's mobile phone?"
"There's no time for questions! He's dying, Ted! Send help to the cabin, please, please!"
"Damn it!" He takes a deep breath. "We're on our way."
"Hurry!"
I hang up and turn my full attention to Mark.
"Please don't give up..." My voice breaks.
I cradle his face in my hands, he doesn't open his eyes, he barely breathes.
"You can't just die now! I didn't even have a chance to reveal myself to you, we didn't have time."
I lower my face and press my lips against his sweaty forehead. When I pull away, a tear rolls down my cheek and drips between his pale lips.
"Please, I'll do anything. Just... don't you dare leave me."
Chapter 28
Sandra
Mark's blood runs between my fingers, hot and sticky, and all I can do is press the soaked towels against the deep cuts, begging him to hold on. My body trembles, my eyes burn.
"Hang on, please, help is coming..."
He doesn't answer. His chest seems motionless, and panic hits me hard. I press my head against his chest, in the area free of injuries, and hold my breath until I hear the faint but steady sound of his heart.
I breathe a sigh of relief, shifting my attention to his lips.
His breathing is shallow and unstable.
But he is breathing.
My gaze turns to the forest when a sound tears through it, and I lift him up when I realise it's coming from above, getting closer and closer, too fast.
