Fifty Eight.

Alpha Elijah’s POV

She pulls her head to the side, turning herself away from my wrist, but she had to drink.

“Aria, you will die!”

But it’s not my comment that changes her mind, I see how her green eyes shift darker, the smell of my blood teasing her desires.

Her teeth lock on to me, her tongue latching against my skin as she sucked. Her dark eyes gaze into my own. I had been so concerned with what the Fae blood did to wolves, I hadn’t considered how it affected hybrids. She was surviving, but only just.

At the time I thought the only way to save her was to call Alwin but his help had barely knitted her wounds together. The one on her cheek was as fresh as the day she had received it, a chunk of her skin missing.

After a few seconds, her eyes slowly close, her teeth retracting as the grip on my arm weakens, she falls back, almost like she is a baby who is milk drunk. Her wounds slowly knitting together but still not completely, instead leaving thick red lines that littered her bo