fourth wing xadens pov

chapter 38

Chapter 38: Blood

No. No. No. I only realise I’m saying the words out loud as Garrick kneels on the ground in front of me, blood coating one side of his face. A bloodied hand reaches out for Violet, his eyes meeting mine for permission to touch her. I nod frantically, desperate for someone that has any clue how to help her. He grabs her wrist, feeling for a pulse and then leans his ear over her mouth, carefully watching the rise and fall of her chest.

“She’s breathing, Xaden. Her pulse is slow, but it’s steady.”

“Her eyes are black.” Panic flares across his face and he carefully lifts one eyelid. I stare straight ahead, holding her tight to me, clinging onto the last memory I have of her face before we took to the skies. I did this. This is all my fault.

“No, they –”

My head snaps to her, as he gently moves her face back to look towards me. There’s no blackness, no spidery veins of darkness. But her eyes, though her own, are devoid of all light, empty and unfocused.

“But I saw it.” I look at Garrick, searching his face for answers.

“Xaden, you’re exhausted and –”

“I saw it!” I shout, but my voice breaks on the words.

“Ok, ok. Do you know what happened to her?” Garrick tears off the edge of his shirt, bundling it into my hand that is still putting pressure on the wound at her side.

“A venin stabbed her with a dagger tipped in something. She felt the burn of it from the moment she was stabbed until she fell,” Tairn supplies, filling in the blanks.

“Can you still feel her?” My gaze finds Tairn, hoping that somehow his bond to her will be greater than mine.

He doesn’t answer for what feels like an eternity. “There’s nothing.”

Just the absence of her, an empty blank nothingness where Violet is supposed to be.

I relay the conversation to Garrick, trying to keep hold of the panic rising in my chest. I can't lose her.

“Maybe it isn’t poison,” Garrick says, his brow furrowing. “Maybe it’s magic.”

I’m vaguely aware of the others talking behind me, but my gaze rakes over Violet, as if the answer on how to save her will be right in front of me if I just look hard enough. Her forearm is bent in two places. She's covered in blood, so much blood. She was never supposed to be here. I did this. All of this is my fault. 

Imogen kneels next to Garrick, pulling off her flight goggles and I ease the pressure off the wound at Violet’s side to see if the blood has started to clot. But blood so dark it looks like ink still pulses from the wound and the spidery veins have started to snake across her stomach.

“Her blood is fucking black.” I say to Garrick, putting pressure back against her side and pull Violet in closer to me. I try to shift her so she’s sitting upright against me, as if that will somehow keep the veins of blackness reaching her vital organs.

“It has to be poison,” Imogen says, but her voice breaks on the words. Garrick turns to reach for her, but she pushes him away. “Look at it! We have to get her back to Basgiath. Nolan might be able to help.”