I would fight. I knew that I would not simply lay down and die. Even if I could not stop her, I would leave her scarred. She would look down at her mangled skin and think about me, the woman who stood in front of her dying mate and fought until her last breath.

I prepared to counter, knowing very well that she was faster and stronger than me.

Her brown eyes were pleased as she darted forward, blade raised. I squatted down in a defensive manner.

A loud thump filled the air. It was duller than the sound of blades striking each other and I didn't feel the weight of her attack against my sword. She was still about two paces from me. And her eyes were wild, almost bugging out of her head.

She tipped forward and fell to the floor with a thud.

Behind her stood my father, wielding his old battered shovel like a war hammer.

A strangled noise ripped out of me at the sight, my stolen sword clattering to the rock flooring.

"Lark, are you hurt?" my father asked, immediately coming to my side. His hands raised to pull me in for a hug, but stopped short, fearing I had been injured.

"No. I thought I was going to die, though," I admitted. What a strange thing to say and it was even stranger that it was true. My body didn't understand that the threat was gone. At least for now. I could hear the blood rushing in my ears, feel the tremble in my hands, my breath seeming to rasp out of my lungs.

"I'm going to kill her," my father ground out. This was the man who said a little prayer every time we slaughtered one of our animals to feed us through the winter.

My rational brain reminded me of the way Seraphina snatched the bottle out of Xion's grasp when he had been about to smash it and how Xion had told Devlin to keep the attackers alive after the incident with the carriage.

"No," I said, but it didn't come out with much strength. My father raised a bushy eyebrow. "Let's get her tied up. I don't think I can win against her and I'm not taking my chances twice."

"And the other one? Judging by the lump on her head, she got hit pretty hard too," my dad pointed out.

I had almost forgotten about the guard who had protected me from her own brother when he had fallen into Bloodlust. She was still lying face down on the floor, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly. But who had struck her hard enough to make her go down? Had Daisy been acting this entire time, not in love with Seraphina at all, but using her instead? Or had Xion been betrayed by his own sister and acted out in self defense?

"Tie them both up," I commanded. "And tie them up well. Don't let them out of your sight." I couldn't trust anyone other than my father at this point, but I had to turn my attention elsewhere.

I was dreading looking at him. I didn't want to see. Not knowing if he had stopped breathing was awful, but I was certain it would be nothing compared to knowing that he hadn't been able to hold on. Still, I would never forgive myself if I could have saved him and wasted time being a coward instead.

I fell to my knees beside Xion, hardly noticing that one of my pant legs was quickly turning crimson.

"Xion," I whispered, my fingers shaking as I reached towards him. His eyes were closed, his body unmoving and far too pale for his natural warm skin tone. He was cool to the touch.

Oh saints, I was too late. He was gone. I had let him go. I should have pushed harder, should have ridden Pandora faster, shouldn't have wasted so much time roaming the palace, calling out his name like an idiot.

His eyes flickered beneath the lids.

"Oh, this is heaven," he said, so softly that I almost couldn't hear him.

"Xion?" I gasped.

His eyes wouldn't open, but I saw the barest twitch of his lips. "Heaven indeed. Perhaps dying was worth it then, if I get to pretend you are with me."

He wasn't dead, at least not yet. I couldn't remember what Devlin had said about healing after Xion had been hurt while defending me during the carriage attack. Something about him needing blood for his healing magic.

"I need you to drink," I said, shoving my wrist towards his mouth.

The tiny smile was gone now, though I doubted it was because of my father grunting while he dragged Seraphina and Daisy about, binding them together before unceremoniously dragging them from the room. I imagined, in his mind, he was putting up quite a fuss, but Xion barely tipped his head to the side.

"No, little dove, I promised," he said, but his voice was getting weaker with every word.

"Xion, please," I begged, grabbing his jaw with one hand and steering him back towards me. I didn't dare allow myself to look down at the ghastly wounds that covered him. Was it from fighting back? Or had Daisy snuck up on him? Perhaps Daisy and Seraphina had worked together and he never had a chance.

"I promised," Xion groaned, but when he spoke I could see that his fang were fully extended.

The moment would have almost been sweet had my heart not been in my throat over the amount of blood that he lost and was still losing. Even with the magic within his body, he was struggling to recover and that magic was going to be depleted soon.

"Fine," I hissed, reaching for the sword I had dropped. It was so sharp it barely stung at all when I sliced a small portion of skin on my wrist. "If you will not take, then I will simply have to give." I pressed my bloody skin against his mouth.

He tried to fight, but his body was exhausted, the blood loss too much for it to handle. His lips were pressed shut. I didn't know if a drop of blood trickled past or if he could smell the red liquid, but his mouth opened in a quiet moan. Even with the pleasure that whirled through my system from the mate bond, I could feel how hard he bit down and how quickly he sucked the blood into his mouth.

But I didn't pull away. Every drop I gave increased the chances of him making it through the night. 

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What would you ask a stranger to get to know them?