He bent to kiss her neck, feeling the fluttering of her pulse beneath his lips. It was his irregular heartbeat, and it thrummed in tandem with his own.
Slumping onto his side, he drew her into his arms. All at once, he was whole and the memory of his hand around her neck became distant. He could almost convince himself it had all been in his mind.
How could he possibly consider hurting her?
She was his.
More than his.
When he’d given her his blood, she’d become a piece of himself.
A small, young, fragile piece of himself.
He lowered his head to hers, taking in the scent of her hair as exhaustion clawed at him. Sleep settled over him like a smothering blanket. Isael succumbed, slipping into dreams as the malignancy continued its advance.