Chapter 31

Chapter 31

“What did you inject him with?”

The question hit Damon like a physical blow.

Rain still fell, but it no longer felt real.

Nothing did.

Only Luca pale, too still on the stretcher, his chest rising too fast, too shallow.

Damon swallowed hard.

“I don’t know exactly,” he admitted, voice rough. “It was in Matteo’s kit. There was a protocol something about hemorrhagic shock. It said stimulant”

Seraphine’s expression went from alarmed to razor-sharp in an instant.

“Show me.”

Damon’s hands shook as he fumbled for the crushed black case, pulling out the vial and syringe packaging with fingers that no longer felt like his own.

She snatched them, scanning the label in seconds.

Then she went very, very still.

“That’s not a standard stimulant,” she said quietly.

Damon’s stomach dropped.

“What is it?”

Seraphine didn’t answer immediately.

She turned to the medics.

“Get him on oxygen. Now. And start a line wide bore. He’s crashing.”

The word hit like a gunshot.

Crashing.

“No,” Damon said under his breath.

No no no

Luca’s body jerked suddenly on the stretcher.

A sharp, involuntary movement.

His back arching slightly.

A strained sound tearing from his throat.

Damon lunged forward instinctively.

“Luca”

“Don’t touch him!”

Seraphine’s voice cut clean through him.

Not cruel.

Not unkind.

But absolute.

Damon froze mid-motion, his hands hovering uselessly in the air.

Luca’s breathing turned erratic.

Too fast.

Then stuttering.

His fingers twitched like his body didn’t quite belong to him anymore.

Seraphine cursed under her breath.

“It’s pushing his system past tolerance.”

Damon’s pulse roared.

“You said it would help him!”

“I said I needed to see what you used,” she snapped, already moving. “This isn’t help it’s forced override.”

The words made something cold spread through Damon’s chest.

Override.

Like Luca wasn’t a person.

Like he was

No.

Damon clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.

The medics worked fast.

Mask over Luca’s face.

Oxygen flowing.

An IV line pushed into his arm with practiced precision.

But Luca’s body wasn’t settling.

It was fighting.

Fighting something inside him that Damon had put there.

Damon staggered back one step.

Then another.

The world narrowed.

Sound dulled.

Rain blurred.

All he could see was Luca on that stretcher 

Breaking.

Because of him.

“I didn’t know,” Damon said, barely audible.

Seraphine glanced at him sharply.

“I know.”

But her tone wasn’t reassuring.

It was focused.

Urgent.

There was no space for comfort here.

Only survival.

Luca’s head rolled slightly to one side.

His eyes fluttered open.

Unfocused.

Searching.

Damon moved before he could stop himself.

“Luca.”

This time Seraphine didn’t stop him.

Maybe because Luca’s gaze locked onto Damon instantly.

Even through the chaos.

Even through whatever was tearing through his system.

Recognition.

Always recognition.

His lips parted under the oxygen mask.

No sound came out.

But Damon saw it anyway.

His name.

Damon’s throat tightened painfully.

“I’m here.”

Luca’s brow furrowed faintly.

Like he was trying to hold onto that.

To anchor himself to it.

Then his body jerked again.

Harder this time.

The heart monitor a portable unit one of the medics had clipped on spiked erratically.

“His rhythm’s destabilizing,” one of them said quickly.

Seraphine moved fast, pulling a second vial from her own kit.

“We’re counteracting.”

She injected it into the IV without hesitation.

Seconds passed.

Too slow.

Too loud.

Damon’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.

Then

Luca’s body stilled.

Not calm.

Not fully stable.

But no longer fighting itself.

His breathing evened slightly under the oxygen mask.

Still shallow.

Still wrong.

But alive.

Alive.

Damon exhaled so hard it felt like something inside him broke open.

Seraphine didn’t relax.

Not even a little.

She checked Luca’s pulse again, then looked at Damon.

“This isn’t over.”

Damon nodded once.

He knew.

God, he knew.

The stimulant hadn’t just kept Luca conscious.

It had pushed his body beyond its limits.

Borrowed time.

Stolen time.

And now the cost was coming due.

“Get him to the ambulance,” Seraphine ordered.

The medics moved immediately, lifting the stretcher and carrying Luca down the slope toward the waiting lights below.

Damon followed without thinking.

Without feeling the mud under his shoes.

Without hearing the voices around him.

All that mattered was staying close.

Not losing sight of him.

Not again.

Halfway down the hill, Luca’s hand shifted weakly against the stretcher.

Damon saw it.

Reached out.

Hesitated.

Then took it.

Carefully.

Like it might break.

Luca’s fingers tightened.

Barely.

But enough.

Damon swallowed hard.

“I’m right here,” he said quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Luca’s grip didn’t loosen.

The ambulance doors slammed shut with a hollow, final sound.

Damon climbed in without being asked.

No one stopped him.

Maybe they saw it in his face.

Maybe they understood.

Or maybe there was simply no time to argue.

The inside smelled like antiseptic and adrenaline.

Too bright.

Too clean.

Too fragile.

Luca lay strapped to the stretcher, oxygen mask in place, IV running, monitors beeping in rhythms Damon didn’t trust.

Seraphine climbed in after him, already pulling on gloves.

“Sit,” she told Damon.

He didn’t.

He stayed where he was, one hand still wrapped around Luca’s.

She didn’t argue.

The doors shut.

The siren screamed to life.

And the world started moving again.

Fast.

Too fast.

Damon barely noticed the motion.

His entire focus had narrowed to the man in front of him.

Luca’s face had lost what little color it had left.

His skin looked almost gray under the harsh lights.

His lashes rested too still against his cheeks.

Too quiet.

Damon’s chest tightened.

“Hey,” he said softly.

No response.

Not even a flicker.

Fear crawled back in, sharp and suffocating.

“Luca.”

Nothing.

Seraphine checked the monitors again.

Her jaw tightened.

“He’s dropping again.”

Damon’s pulse spiked.

“Do something.”

“I am.”

She adjusted the IV flow, injected something else.

Watched.

Waited.

Seconds stretched into something unbearable.

Then Luca’s breathing hitched.

A sharp inhale.

Then another.

Stronger.

Not stable.

But present.

Damon sagged slightly where he stood.

“Stay with me,” he murmured.

His thumb brushed unconsciously against Luca’s knuckles.

Grounding.

Needing to feel something real.

Seraphine glanced at him briefly.

Then said, more quietly this time:

“That compound you used it was designed for extreme field recovery.”

Damon looked up.

“What does that mean?”

“It means it forces the body to function past safe limits,” she said. “It keeps a subject moving when they should be unconscious… or dead.”

The word hit hard.

Damon swallowed.

“And now?”

“Now his body is trying to correct that.”

Damon’s grip tightened slightly.

“Can he?”

Seraphine didn’t answer immediately.

Which was answer enough.

Damon looked back at Luca.

At the man who had already survived more than anyone should.

At the man who had still chosen to stay.

Even when leaving would have been easier.

Even when staying meant pain.

Damon leaned closer.

His voice dropped.

“If you die,” he said quietly, “I’m going to be extremely angry with you.”

No reaction.

Not even a twitch.

Damon huffed a breath that almost turned into something broken.

“Seriously,” he added, softer now. “Don’t do that.”

Silence.

Then

A faint movement.

So small Damon almost missed it.

Luca’s fingers tightened slightly in his hand.

Weak.

But deliberate.

Damon’s breath caught.

“There you are.”

Luca’s lips parted under the mask.

A whisper of air.

Barely sound.

But Damon leaned closer anyway.

Close enough to hear it.

“…still… here…”

Damon’s chest ached.

“Good,” he said. “Stay that way.”

Luca’s eyes didn’t open.

But his grip didn’t fade either.

The ambulance jolted as it took a sharp turn.

Sirens screamed through the night.

Lights flashed across Luca’s face in red and blue bursts.

Damon barely noticed anything outside that small, fragile space.

Seraphine suddenly went still.

Her eyes flicked to one of the monitors.

Then narrowed.

Damon saw the change instantly.

“What?”

She didn’t answer.

Not right away.

Her focus sharpened, fingers moving quickly over the equipment.

“His heart rate’s irregular again.”

Damon’s stomach dropped.

“But you fixed it”

“I stabilized it,” she corrected. “This isn’t fixed.”

The words hit like ice water.

Luca’s body jerked again.

Not as violently as before.

But enough.

Enough to terrify.

The monitor spiked.

Then dipped.

Then

Flatlined for half a second.

The silence of that line

That horrible, empty silence

Ripped the air out of Damon’s lungs.

“NO”

“It’s not flatline,” Seraphine snapped immediately, already moving. “It’s fluctuation.”

But she was moving faster now.

More urgent.

Which meant

It was bad.

Really bad.

Damon’s grip tightened painfully around Luca’s hand.

“Stay with me,” he said again, voice breaking now despite everything. “You don’t get to leave now. Not like this.”

Luca didn’t respond.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t squeeze back.

Damon’s chest constricted.

No.

No, no, no

Seraphine injected another dose into the IV.

Watched.

Waited.

The monitor flickered.

Beeped.

Skipped.

Then caught again.

A weak rhythm.

Unsteady.

But there.

Alive.

Damon exhaled shakily.

But the relief didn’t last.

Because Seraphine’s expression didn’t change.

Didn’t soften.

Didn’t ease.

If anything

It hardened.

And when she looked at Damon this time, there was something else in her eyes.

Something that made his blood run cold.

Understanding.

Calculation.

And something dangerously close to dread.

“Damon,” she said quietly.

His heart dropped.

“What?”

She hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then said:

“If his body rejects the compound completely…”

Damon’s grip tightened.

“Then what?”

Seraphine met his eyes.

And didn’t soften the truth.

“…his heart won’t recover from the rain.”

The words didn’t feel real.

They couldn’t be.

Not now.

Not after everything.

Damon shook his head slightly.

“No.”

Seraphine didn’t argue.

Didn’t comfort.

Just turned back to Luca and kept working.

Because right now, hope wasn’t something she could promise.

Only something they had to fight for.

Second by second.

Breath by breath.

Heartbeat by fragile heartbeat.

The ambulance lurched to a sudden stop.

Doors flew open.

Hospital lights flooded in.

Voices shouted.

Hands reached in.

They started pulling Luca out

And his hand slipped from Damon’s.

Just like that.

Gone.

Damon’s chest seized.

“Wait”

But they were already moving.

Fast.

Too fast.

Seraphine followed, barking orders.

Damon stumbled out after them

Just in time to hear one of the medics say sharply:

“We’re losing him again!”