woman fell against him, letting him hold her up. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his thumb on her shoulders.
“Tris…” She didn’t finish her sentence.
Tris’s huntsmen friends were already gathering around her.
“She should be fine.” Right? “You need some blood, and rest too.”
Diana shook her head. “Not yet. I want to see—”
Without any warning, a crash resounded in the clearing, thunderous in the silence. Before Mikar could understand where it came from, it slammed again, and Chloe's fist smashed through her ice casket.
"Oh my god!" Blair rushed to help Chloe sit.
Though she was inches away, Blair reached her after Levi, who was already breaking through the rest of the ice and sweeping Chloe into his arms, cradling her as though she was a child.
Despite everything, Mikar was still shocked to see her alive. Everything seemed fine, intact. Her chest was unmarked by so much as a blemish.
"I told you you weren't allowed to die on my watch, remember?" Blair pointed an accusatory finger at Chloe. "Don't you dare give me a heart attack like that!"
Eirikr stood at a distance, still seeming lost, not quite sure where to stand. Chloe looked over Levi's shoulder to him and smiled, her hand reaching out, beckoning him close. He walked to her then, and tentatively stroked her hair—a tender gesture he didn’t seem practiced in.
Mikar left them to it. This was their family time; he would have felt like an intruder.
“How’s Tris?” Diana asked weakly.
Mikar helped her balance herself as she walked to the other side of the circle. To his surprise, she let him, without a protest. Her concerned huntsmen friends parted ways to give her a look at the fledgling, who still lay unmoving, her head propped up on Jack Hunter’s knees.
"She'll need blood of..." Diana started.
Jack produced a flask. "I keep that handy," he replied. "It's from her father."
Mikar remembered that Tris was his cousin. Several moments passed, stretching painfully as they stood around her, waiting for her to awaken.
When born vampires died, their mortal shells froze in time, and they woke changed—although they needed to drink the blood of their ancestor to survive the transition. From years of experience on the hill, Mikar knew that the wait could be seconds, minutes, or in certain cases, days. Younger, weaker children took longer. And sometimes—rarely—they didn't wake up at all.
Chloe had left Levi's embrace to join them, her cheeks wet with tears as she clasped one of Tris’s hands in hers.
Dread pooled in the air as the moon rose to its apex over the lake. What if Thanatos had taken her permanently? Mikar knew it'd destroy a part of Chloe to know she'd indirectly been responsible for her friend's death. And it would also weigh on Diana for the part she’d played. Her features morphed into a mask of fright, confusion, and guilt.
Tris jolted awake, her eyes wild, sitting up and exhaling so deep her face contorted into a wordless scream. She blinked, looking around in confusion.
Mikar laughed. He couldn't help it. The relief was too great. To his surprise, the others joined in, chuckling as Tris lifted a brow. "You took your time, kid," he explained to the confused huntsman.
“Sorry to be a bother.” She rolled her dark eyes that turned silver under the moonlight. Jack handed her the vial of blood, that Tris uncapped and downed in one greedy gulp. "Dad tastes disturbingly good.” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
Her cousin grimaced. "Limit the incestuous innuendoes around me, if you would."
"Ew." Tris faked barfing. "Majorly gross. Only you would get your head in the gutter like that." Tris's hand went to her throat. "Oh. This isn't fun. I'm hungry. Well, you know. Thirsty.”
That must have been an understatement: newly made vampires were parched after the change. They needed to get her some blood, and soon.
“And you all smell like dinner.” She didn’t sound surprised, but her visible self-disgust wasn’t unexpected. Mikar had felt the same way about his new thirst for blood when he’d been turned. Most vampires did.
Before he could announce his intention to run to his place to bring her a bottle or two, Gwen had taken the soiled knife discarded on the ground and lightly slashed her forearm. "Here, you can drink from me."
“You might have wanted to clean the blade,” Diana murmured, grimacing.
Tris blinked up at the witch, her expression horrified, but then her eyes darted to the thin line of fresh blood. She opened her mouth, her tongue licking her dry lips. "You don't know what you're