THE COST
231 Words
Silence fell. The guards lay unconscious, their weapons scattered across the stone floor. Clémence slept in her cage, unaware of the storm that had passed.
Lucien knelt beside Élise, his breath ragged. “You did it,” he said, voice trembling with pain and awe.
Then he coughed—a harsh, wet sound. Blood stained his lips. Élise’s eyes widened as she saw the jagged wound just below his ribs. A guard’s blade had found him. It was deep—lethal.
“You’re dying,” she whispered, heart pounding.
“Vampire poison,” Lucien gasped. “In the blade. I’ll turn soon. Or die. Kill me, Élise. Like I asked my sister. Please…”
But Élise shook her head, her eyes fierce with defiance. She touched his face, cradling it with trembling hands. “There’s another way.”
Before he could protest, she drew a dagger and sliced her palm open. Blood welled up, rich and red. She pressed it to his lips.
“Drink,” she commanded.
Lucien recoiled. “No. It will kill you.”
“Do it,” Élise ordered, her voice a blade of steel.
Reluctantly, Lucien drank. Her blood flowed into him, hot and pulsing with life. His wound glowed faintly, then closed. Color returned to his cheeks. His eyes cleared.
But Élise collapsed. Cold spread through her limbs. Her vision blurred, then darkened into shadow.
- Writer
