Noel
I sat there, stunned, watching the brothers as they each took the knife without hesitation, their expressions resolute. One after the other, they pressed the blade to their palms, and I could see the crimson streak of their blood spilling onto the wound on my side. I wanted to protest, to tell them to stop, but the words caught in my throat. It was surreal, watching them offer a piece of themselves for my healing.
“You don’t have to do this,” I finally managed to say, though my voice was weak.
“We do,” River said firmly, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re one of us, Noel. We take care of our own.” His voice carried no room for argument, and the others nodded in agreement.
As the last drop of blood fell onto the injury, something extraordinary happened. The burning pain subsided,
