His knees buckled, and he caved. Tiredness wrapped his body and tensed his muscles.
He had to get up and run. Werewolves and vampires didn’t mix. There was nothing new or poetic about it. But his parents were foolish enough to go against the rules and conceive him.
Why was he thinking about this now?
He had to gather the remaining strength and leave before the werewolves found him.
Would they kill him?
Wasn’t he ready to die just seconds ago? Why the change of heart?
His random thoughts halted as he struggled for breath and touched the bloody wound on his chest.
What was going on? Why was he feeling so weak? The blade didn’t hurt like a silver blade would when it slashed his flesh. Maybe the vampire added something extra. Some unknown poison that weakened his body. Was it deadly? Whatever it was, if he were found in werewolf territory—half-werewolf or not—they would end his life.
His head swam as the world tilted, and he stumbled back and hit the ground. His eyes caught a brief glimpse of the starry night before darkness took over all his senses.