The Blood Contract
Chapter 47: I’ll do it

Chapter 47: I’ll do it

Marlowe’s heart jumped, the sudden shout making her startle, and her body followed when she heard Adrian’s call, her chair scraping back as she stood. She knew that tone, the sharp edge of fear in it. It could only mean that something serious was up, something dire enough to break through Adrian’s usual calm.

As she moved, Serena followed out of curiosity, her own heart picking up pace at the tension in the air. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight her eyes landed on, the image searing into her mind. What the hell? The man who always seemed invincible now looked... fragile.

"Mr. Draven, are you alright?" Marlowe asked, her professional mask slipping just enough to reveal her concern as she took in his pallor, the sheen of sweat on his brow.

"I’m fine," Lucian answered again in a tone that suggested they should stop asking him that already, his patience wearing thin. "The antidote—is it really what they claimed it is?" he asked, and the woman nodded, her movements quick as she assessed him.

"Indeed it is. It’s made for the sole purpose of neutralizing splera de plifa from a person’s system." The foreign words rolled off her tongue with practiced ease.

"What the hell is splera de plifa?" Lucian asked, utterly confused, his brows drawing together. The name sounded so strange to his ears, and he needed to know what exactly was running through his system, the enemy he was fighting.

"It’s a poison said to have the ability of suppressing magical powers," Marlowe explained, her hands moving as she spoke. "I believe the attackers knew Serena’s identity and came with that purpose in mind. But I’ve checked her thoroughly, and she doesn’t have the poison in her system," Marlowe revealed, her gaze flicking to Serena briefly.

"That’s because the poisoned dagger was not used on her. It was used on me," Lucian revealed, the words dropping like stones in the quiet room, eliciting shocked reactions from everyone around him, their faces paling. "I need the antidote." The demand was clear, his voice rough with pain.

"Oh my God," Marlowe exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth before she caught herself. "I’ll go get it immediately," she said, already turning on her heel, her movements sharp with urgency as she moved in haste toward the lab where she kept the bottle.

Try as she may, Serena’s widened eyes refused to return to their normal size, the shock rooting her to the spot. She knew something was wrong with that wound last night when she saw it, the unnatural darkness around the edges, but he was so focused on telling her not to touch him that she didn’t think about it further, the moment slipping away.

Looking at him now, she felt sorry, the guilt a heavy weight in her chest. That dagger had been meant for her, but he took the hit and was suffering in her stead, his body paying the price for her safety. Noticing how his jaw was working, the muscle ticking with tension, she knew he was in pain, the kind that went bone-deep.

Lucian shifted his gaze to her, the movement slow, and instantly hated the look on her face, the pity and guilt swirling in her eyes. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to pity him, least of all her, and she looked exactly like that was what she was doing, her lips parted in silent horror.

"Here it is," Marlowe announced as she returned, the bottle clutched tightly in her hand. "Let me help you apply it," she offered, already uncorking the vial, the liquid inside catching the light.

"No. I can do it myself," Lucian declined, his voice firm despite its roughness. He stretched his hand in silent demand for the bottle, his fingers trembling slightly, which the woman finally dropped in his palm after a brief hesitation, her worry clear in her eyes.

Having regained a little of his strength, just enough to move without collapsing, he turned around and started for the stairs, his steps still unstable, each one a battle. He wouldn’t let them see him falter further, his pride a shield against the weakness.

"There’s a pattern of use you have to follow," Marlowe started again, her voice trailing after him, and Lucian nodded, the motion stiff.

"10ml on the wound, the rest in my mouth after thirty minutes. I know, Marlowe," he said, the words clipped as he moved further up one step at a time, his grip white-knuckled on the railing. He wouldn’t fall. Not here. Not now.

"You also have to eat," Marlowe added, the concern in her voice unmistakable. The instructions were clear—this wasn’t optional.

"I’m not hungry, and I do not want to be disturbed," he spoke one last time before disappearing from their line of sight, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argument. The door to his room clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silence.

A worried frown settled on Marlowe’s features, her lips pressing into a thin line. "He has to eat before taking that solution, else it will trigger a negative reaction." The consequences didn’t bear thinking about, the potential damage making her stomach twist.

"But he just said he doesn’t want to be disturbed," Darrell pointed out, his arms crossed. The unspoken question hung in the air—who would dare to defy Lucian’s orders?

"Yeah, more like saying ’it’s not my time to die, but let me die in peace’ because of his stubbornness," Adrian uttered in an annoyed voice, his frustration bubbling over. "I’ll take the food to him," he decided, squaring his shoulders. "I just don’t know if I’ll be able to convince him to eat before he blows my brains off." The attempt at humor fell flat, the tension too thick.

"No. I’ll do it," Serena suddenly chimed in, the words leaving her mouth before she could reconsider. They all turned to her with a frown, Marlowe’s deeper than the others, her disapproval clear. "What?" Serena asked, meeting their gazes head-on. "I think I’m less at risk of getting my brains blown off. And he’s suffering because of me, so I should at least ensure he doesn’t die." The logic was sound, even if the risk was high.

"Don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault," Marlowe spoke in a tone that sounded as if she was scolding her, the words sharp. The last thing they needed was misplaced guilt complicating things further.

"I know, and I’m not blaming myself," Serena said, her chin lifting slightly. "I’m just pointing out the best option we have," she finished, her decision final. The set of her shoulders said she wouldn’t be swayed, no matter their protests. Someone had to get through to Lucian, and she was the most likely to survive the attempt.