Chapter 1275
Chapter 1275:
Jett’s fingers tightened on the edge of his coat, betraying his tension. Though he kept his expression steady, a tempest of worry churned in his gaze.
The sight buoyed my spirits, easing the throb of my wound.
“Antoni,” Jett snapped, his voice dripping with malice. “Mark my words, you’ll always be outdone by Makenna.”
With that, he spun on his heel and stormed from the room.
Watching his hasty exit, I couldn’t suppress a hearty laugh. “Makenna… soon, you’ll be nothing more than a corpse.”
Makenna’s POV:
In a frenzy, Antoni bolted from the scene, and Bryan swiftly rallied his men to give chase.
At that very moment, Dominic, who had been leaning heavily on me for support, crumpled to the ground. His full weight bore down on me, and the face that usually wore a defiant smirk was now ghostly pale, a faint smear of blood lingering at the corner of his mouth.
“Hold off on the pursuit!” I called out sharply to Bryan.
My urgent cry stopped Bryan in his tracks. His piercing gaze narrowed as he assessed Dominic’s dire state. In a heartbeat, he was by my side.
“What is wrong with him? He was on his feet just moments ago. How did he…” Bryan’s trembling fingers reached for Dominic’s neck, searching for a pulse.
“We can deal with Antoni later,” I cut in, my voice thick with emotion, nearly breaking. “Right now, Dominic needs us!”
“Agreed. We’ll head down the mountain first. A doctor is our only hope once we’re clear of these slopes,” Bryan said, grounding me with his calm resolve.
The descent felt like an eternity.
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Amon hoisted Dominic onto his back, but Dominic’s coughs grew worse, each one bringing up more blood. The warm, crimson stain seeped through Amon’s clothes, and my heart raced with dread that we wouldn’t reach a hospital in time.
I clung tightly to Dominic’s hand, his skin growing colder, his breaths shallower with every agonizing step.
“It’s too late…” I whispered to myself, gazing at the distant, seemingly unattainable foot of the mountain. Steeling myself, I said, “Amon, set him down for a moment.”
Bryan, who had been forging the path ahead, paused and turned, his face etched with confusion.
When Amon gently laid Dominic on the soft grass, I drew a dagger from my side.
“Makenna, what are you doing?” Bryan seized my wrist, his grip so fierce it felt as though he might shatter my bones.
Wrenching free, I slashed my palm without a second thought. “My blood might save him.”
“No!” Bryan’s voice cracked with a raw panic I had never heard before. “You’ve already pushed yourself to the brink. Losing more blood could kill you!”
“It’s my fault Dominic’s in this state!” I cried, tears spilling down my cheeks as my voice broke under the weight of guilt.
The dagger’s sharp edge gleamed in the sunlight as blood dripped from my palm onto Dominic’s pallid lips.
I carefully parted his mouth, letting more of my blood trickle in.
.
.
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