Crimson Bonds

Burden

Once inside, I can see the toll the sun has taken on them. Dante's usual commanding presence is dimmed, his shoulders tight with tension. Nikolai, normally so full of energy and teasing, leans against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck with a strained expression. And Lila—always the calm, collected one—sits down, her eyes closed, breathing deeply.

They're too weak. The sun has taken too much from them.

My breath catches in my throat as the reality of what I'm about to do sinks in. Offering myself—offering my blood—isn't something I can do without fear. The memory of their fangs sinking into my skin, the rush of heat and pain, is still fresh.

But I'm not helpless. I'm not a burden.

Not anymore.

They need me now. I've slowed them down, but I can fix it. I can be their strength when they have none. With trembling hands, I offer my wrists. "You need to feed," I say, the words firm despite the pounding in my chest.

This isn't just for me anymore—it's for all of us.

Three pairs of eyes turn to me. Dante's brow furrows, Nikolai raises an eyebrow, and Lila just stares, as if trying to understand what I'm saying.

For a moment, the room is silent. The weight of my words hangs between us, and I can feel their hesitation. Dante's gaze flickers, uncertainty passing over his features as his hand hovers near mine. My pulse pounds in my ears, each beat a reminder of what I'm offering.

But I don't back down. Not this time.

"You need to feed from me," I repeat, my voice steadier this time. "You're too weak."

"Olivia," Dante begins, his voice low but firm, "we're fine. We don't need—"

"No, you're not fine," I interrupt, stepping closer to them. My hands are trembling, but I push the fear aside. "I can see it. You're not at full strength. You can barely stand in the sunlight, and if something happens, I'll be dead before you can even move."

Lila's eyes soften, but there's a flicker of hesitation. "We don't want to take too much from you."

"You won't," I insist, my voice firm now. "You've fed from me before. I'm still standing. And right now, you need to be at your best if we're going to survive this. You need to be strong enough to fight."

Nikolai pushes off the wall, his usual grin nowhere to be found. "She has a point," he says, his voice rougher than usual. "We're running on fumes here."

Dante shoots him a sharp look, but he doesn't argue. The tension between them hangs in the air like a heavy fog, and I know this isn't just about feeding. This is about Dante's pride, his need to protect me without relying on my help. But right now, that's not an option.

"Look," I say, stepping even closer to Dante, my eyes locking with his. "If you want to keep me safe, you need to be strong. You need to feed. You don't have a choice."

For a moment, I think he might argue again, but then something shifts in his gaze. His jaw clenches, and he nods slowly. "Alright," he says quietly.

I nod, my heart racing as I hold out my arm to him. Fear rises in me like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under. I feel it in my trembling hands, in the rapid thrum of my heartbeat.

A part of me wants to pull back, to run, but I force myself to stand firm. I'm offering them my blood, my life. And even though fear grips my chest, I know it's the only way. If they can survive because of me, then the pain will be worth it.

They've already taken so much from me—my blood, my humanity, my sense of safety. But now, I have something to offer them willingly.

I can give them what they need to survive. This may be a sacrifice. But It's power. My power.