--55--

NIXON

“What are you doing?” I asked Alice when she looked at me like she knew I was there the whole time, her thick scent hanging in the air, more potent than it usually is, “Is that your-”

“Yes,” she interrupted, “Marcy needs it to survive now, Nixon.”

“You’ve already lost enough,” I hissed, taking the time to really look at her and Declan was right. She looked paler, had bags under her eyes, and reacted slower than normal. We’ve never been sick, part of the shifter charm I suppose, but that's how she looked now. Sick. Onyx was scratching at the surface to be let loose, even though Marcy was Linden’s mate and he understood she needed it to survive, the fact that she was drinking Alice’s blood was boiling his.

Marcy looked better, and she was technically dead. <