Chapter 12: Awakening Blood
1233words
Dawn found me huddled in Damian's bed, wrapped in his sheets, desperately seeking comfort in his lingering scent. After Victor's intrusion, Jackson had insisted I not stay alone, practically carrying me to Damian's suite when fever overtook me. Now my skin burned, every nerve ending hypersensitive as Victor's blood worked its way through my system.
"Your temperature's rising again," Jackson said, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. He'd stayed all night, keeping watch while I drifted between consciousness and feverish dreams.
"What's happening to me?" I gasped, another wave of heat washing through me.
"Blood awakening." His expression was grim. "Victor's blood is activating your dormant Blackwood genes."
"I thought I was just moon blood."
"You're more." Jackson sat beside me, his weight dipping the mattress. "Your mother suppressed her wolf nature completely, choosing to live as human. You inherited that suppressed potential."
I curled tighter, pain lancing through my muscles. "Is this what happened to her? When Victor killed her?"
Jackson's eyes darkened. "No. This is different. Victor's trying to force your transformation before the blood moon, to ensure you choose him."
"Why would this make me choose him?"
"First blood bond creates a connection. He's hoping it will influence your decision." He brushed damp hair from my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. "But he underestimates you. And Damian's prior claim."
As if summoned by his name, the bedroom door burst open. Damian stood there, wild-eyed and disheveled, as if he'd driven through the night.
"I felt her pain," he said to Jackson, ignoring formalities. "What happened?"
"Victor," Jackson replied simply. "Blood bond."
Damian's face transformed with rage, a growl building in his chest. In three strides he was at the bedside, pulling back the covers to examine me. His eyes widened at the sight of my hand, where Victor's cut had healed to a thin silver line—too quickly, too completely to be human.
"When?" he demanded.
"Midnight," Jackson said. "I drove him off, but not before—"
"Not before he infected her." Damian's voice was deadly quiet.
"Not infected," I managed through chattering teeth. "Awakened. That's what he said."
Damian's eyes met mine, blue fire burning in their depths. "He had no right."
"Neither did you," I countered weakly. "When you marked me."
His expression softened slightly. "That was different. You consented."
"Did I? Or was I manipulated then too?"
Pain flashed across his features. "You know the answer to that."
Another wave of fever washed over me, making me gasp. My back arched off the bed as something shifted inside me—bones and muscles realigning in ways that should be impossible.
"It's accelerating," Jackson said, alarm evident in his voice. "She shouldn't be transitioning this quickly."
"The dual bloodlines," Damian muttered. "Hunter and wolf together—it's unpredictable."
He sat on the bed, gathering me into his arms. The contact sent electricity through my hypersensitive skin, but also immediate relief, as if his touch could soothe the fire in my veins.
"Listen to me, Elena," he said urgently. "You need to fight this. Victor's trying to force your wolf to surface before you're ready."
"How?" I gasped.
"Focus on your human side. On who you are."
"I don't know who I am anymore," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "Human? Wolf? Hunter? I'm lost, Damian."
His arms tightened around me. "You're Elena. Stubborn, fearless, infuriating Elena who challenged me when no one else dared. Hold onto that."
I tried to focus, but another spasm wracked my body. My vision blurred, colors intensifying, scents becoming overwhelming. I could smell Damian's concern, Jackson's worry, my own fear—emotions translated into scents my human brain struggled to process.
"It's not working," Jackson said tensely. "We need to stabilize her."
Damian's jaw tightened. "There's only one way."
"The claiming bite," Jackson nodded. "It might counteract Victor's blood bond."
"What are you talking about?" I managed between gasps.
Damian's eyes met mine, intense and serious. "My mark on you was just the beginning—a preliminary claim. A full claiming bite would strengthen our bond enough to potentially override Victor's influence."
"Another bite?" I shuddered. "More werewolf voodoo?"
Despite everything, his lips quirked. "Something like that."
"Will it hurt?"
"Yes," he said honestly. "But then it will bring relief."
Another wave of pain decided for me. "Do it."
Jackson stood. "I'll leave you—"
"Stay," Damian commanded, surprising us both. "I need a witness that this was her choice. That I didn't take advantage."
Jackson nodded, moving to the window, giving us what privacy he could.
Damian shifted me in his arms, tilting my head to expose my neck. His breath was warm against my skin as he whispered, "I'm sorry it has to be like this. Under different circumstances, this would be... more intimate."
The heat in his voice sent a different kind of shiver through me. "Just do it."
His lips brushed my neck, seeking the right spot. When he found it—the junction where neck meets shoulder—he hesitated. "Elena, after this, the bond between us will be stronger. You'll feel what I feel. Know what I know."
"Including the truth about everything? No more secrets?"
"No more secrets," he promised.
Then his teeth sank into my flesh.
Pain exploded through me, white-hot and all-consuming. I screamed, my body arching against his. But almost immediately, the pain transformed into something else—a rush of sensation that bordered on pleasure, spreading outward from the bite.
And with it came Damian—not just his physical presence, but his essence flowing into me. Centuries of memories, emotions, desires. I saw him as he'd been throughout the ages, witnessed the formation of the pact, felt his loneliness across decades.
Most overwhelming was what he felt for me—possessiveness tangled with genuine love, desire tempered with fear of losing me. The complexity of his emotions staggered me.
When he finally released my neck, licking the wound closed with gentle strokes of his tongue, I collapsed against him, trembling but no longer in pain. The fever had broken, Victor's influence pushed back by something stronger.
"Better?" Damian asked softly, his voice rough with emotion.
I nodded, unable to speak. The connection between us hummed like a live wire, making me acutely aware of his body against mine, his hand stroking my hair, his heart beating in time with my own.
Jackson cleared his throat. "It worked. Her scent is changing—more Damian than Victor now."
"Not completely," Damian said. "Victor's blood is still there, but subdued."
I found my voice at last. "What happens now?"
"Now you rest," Damian said. "The blood moon is still five days away. Victor won't give up, but this buys us time."
As he laid me back against the pillows, I caught his wrist. "Stay with me."
Something flared in his eyes—hunger, relief, triumph. "Always."
Jackson slipped quietly from the room as Damian stretched out beside me, pulling me against his chest. The last thing I remembered before drifting into exhausted sleep was his whispered promise against my hair:
"When you wake, we'll face the truth together. All of it."
What neither of us realized was that the claiming bite had accelerated more than just our bond. Deep inside me, something was changing—awakening—faster than anyone could have predicted. By morning, the woman in Damian's arms would not be the same one who had fallen asleep there.
