NINETY FOUR

DIMITRI'S POV

But it wasn't just the curse. The physical manifestation of the curse caused hot blood to pump through my veins.

The doctor said I would likely not survive another attack, especially if I didn't have Camille close.

Seeing my flesh turn diseased caused my stomach to twist because I believed that was it.

Death had come for me. Camille was going to have to grieve me while she searched for our son.

"Not now..." I pleaded to whatever forces cared to listen. "I can't die now."

Something or someone must have been listening. Because the tendrils, as if responding to my desperate plea, began to recede, their grip loosening ever so slightly. It was as though a sliver of hope had pierced through the darkness, offering me a glimmer of reprieve.

With each passing moment, the pain began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of tentative relief.

Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, I pushed aside the fear that momentarily consumed me and straightened my posture.

Knowing it could happen