The Price of Blood
990 Words
Elder Raymond stepped closer to the stretcher, his hands trembling so violently he almost dropped his diagnostic spectacles. The hostility on his face had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming, terrified awe.
"The poison... it's retreating," Raymond whispered, his voice cracking. "How is this possible? Feral magic has no cure."
He turned to Natalia, his eyes wide. "Please... try to save him. If the black veins reach his heart, he will die."
Natalia looked at the sleeping scout, whose face was pale and slick with cold sweat. She didn't know how she had stopped the poison's crawl, but she knew she couldn't stand by and watch a warrior die. She pressed her thumb against the small cut on her index finger, squeezing until a single drop of shimmering, purple-gold blood emerged.
She leaned over the stretcher and let the drop of blood fall directly onto the rotting black gash on the scout's leg.
The moment the blood touched the wound, a soft, silver moon-glow erupted from the flesh.
A low hiss echoed through the courtyard as the black, toxic rot dissolved like ice in a furnace. The putrid smell of decay was instantly replaced by the clean, sharp scent of rain-drenched freesia. The warriors gasped, stepping back as they watched the skin on the scout's leg knit itself together, the raw flesh healing at a rate that defied all shifter science.
Within seconds, the black veins were entirely gone. The scout's leg was healed, leaving only a thin, silver scar.
The scout’s eyes snapped open. He sat up, looking at his leg in disbelief, before lifting his gaze to Natalia. Slow and deliberate, the fierce warrior slid off the stretcher, dropped to one knee, and lowered his head.
"Thank you, My Luna," the scout said, his voice ringing across the silent arena.
A ripple of shock went through the crowd. Brandon and the other guards slowly lowered their weapons, their faces pale. The whispers were no longer sneers, but murmurs of disbelief. They were shifters; they respected strength, and Natalia had just demonstrated a power greater than any claw or fang.
"Clear the arena."
A deep, commanding voice cut through the courtyard.
Caleb walked out from the shadow of the main hall, his broad chest rising and falling, his presence immediately dominating the space. He ignored the kneeling warriors and stepped directly to Natalia. Before she could speak, his large hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
"We need to talk," Caleb murmured, his voice low and vibrating against her ear, before leading her away from the stunned crowd.
In the main stone hall, the fireplace crackled with orange flame, casting long, dancing shadows on the high granite walls. Caleb shut the heavy iron doors, shutting out the rest of the pack. He walked toward the high stone throne, but instead of sitting, he leaned his hip against the armrest, his dark eyes fixed on Natalia.
"Raymond believes you possess the dormant blood of the First Luna," Caleb said, his voice low. "The line that was thought to have died out a thousand years ago. Your blood has the power to heal feral corruption. You cured my scouts, and you cured my madness."
Natalia stood in the center of the hall, her lavender eyes steady. "Is that why you protected me? Because I am useful to you?"
"In this world, Natalia, usefulness is the only currency that matters," Caleb replied, his expression ruthlessly honest. "But let's make a deal. A contract."
He took a step toward her, his shadow stretching across the stone floor.
"Stay here. Act as my Luna. Use your blood and scent to heal my warriors and suppress my feral curse," Caleb proposed, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper. "In return, I will give you absolute power in the Blood Moon Pack. I will protect you from the Central Sanctuary, and when the time comes, I will march my warriors into the Silver Fang territory and hand Kaelen’s head to you."
Natalia stared at the ruthless Alpha. The offer of protection and revenge was intoxicating. But she had just escaped Kaelen's cage, and she had no intention of entering another.
"I will not be your slave, Caleb," Natalia said, her voice quiet but filled with an iron resolve. "I am not a tool to be kept in your bedroom and bled whenever you or your warriors get hurt. If we do this, it is a partnership. I want my own voice, my own authority. I want to build my own strength."
Caleb stopped inches from her. A slow, dark smile spread across his lips, his eyes flashing with a predatory, dangerous amusement. "A partnership? A shifted-less girl bargaining with the most dangerous Alpha on the continent? You have courage, little rabbit."
"Do we have a deal or not?" she challenged, refusing to back down.
Caleb’s smile widened. "I like your claws, Natalia."
Before she could react, his hand shot out, wrapping around the back of her neck and pulling her forward. He leaned down, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her collarbone. Natalia froze as she felt the sharp edge of his Alpha fangs scrape against her skin.
"Let this seal our contract," Caleb whispered.
He bit down.
It wasn't the deep, soul-binding mate mark of a shifter, but a sharp, possessive warning. A sting of pain went through Natalia’s shoulder as his fangs pierced the skin, leaving a small, dark red mark. She gasped, her hands instinctively grabbing his broad shoulders for support.
Caleb pulled back, his tongue catching a stray drop of blood from the bite. His eyes flared red for a brief second before settling into a warm, satisfied brown.
"You are mine now, Natalia," Caleb said, his voice thick with a dark, possessive purr as he traced the fresh red mark on her skin. "And Kaelen's border guards are already moving. Soon, you will watch him crawl."
- Writer
