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"My blood is yours."


Elijah poured water from a small pitcher. It streamed into the grooved tile, liquid rose filling up to match the surface floor.

"As long as Alyssa keeps the blood activated on her side, we will exchange spaces."

As the blood connected at the last point, twinging dizziness fell over Elijah. His balance shifted, all sense of movement disappearing. But before he or Aisultan could steady themselves, their balance returned.

And the scenery swapped out for another.

"So quickly?" Aisultan said, ears swiveling as he checked the room. The luxurious lounge was twice the size of a master's bedroom–the engraved circle that, in Elijah's manor was at the center, now placed them in the corner. With outstretched sofas and pulled curtains, as well as soft carpeting outside the cut corner.

"I was unsure of what to expect, really."

Elijah barely heard Aisultan's voice. His head swam with dull throbs. He ignored it, each step heavy and forceful; Elijah pushed through the pain.

They had lost too much time already. By all means, the ring thief could have slipped away, and their suspicious priest cohort gone, too. Worst case scenario, the perpetrator kills off the greedy human and the Saintess Church finds out.

"Elijah."

The scent of blood was thick and tantalizing, so mismatched and overflowing, that it sickened. His legs were heavier than lead. Elijah swallowed dryly, opening the door out into the hallway. He had to find the ring thief–he needed to. He couldn't let this escalate, couldn't let Eli's kindness to humans be in vain. Couldn't burden Alyssa and Aisultan further.

"Elijah...!"

He couldn't let Eli leave with the world he loved so dearly in shambles. He couldn't waste any more time on this–he needed to continue finding a way to prolong Eli's life–

"...jah. Hey, Elijah dear! Stop. Stop, you look as if you're about to faint."

An arm barred Elijah from moving, pulling him into a hug. The forceful motion snapped Elijah out of his collapsing thoughts; his crimson-turned pupils bright and shaking.

"You lied to me earlier, didn't you? You're suffering repercussions from swapping with Eli."

"Let go," Elijah muttered, clutching at the black sleeve.

"I can't listen to you this time, Elijah dear. If I let go, you're bound to hurt yourself."

"We don't have time for this. I don't have time to follow along your whimsy. I need to talk to Alyssa and begin searching this palace–"

"You can't do that. You are so strong, Elijah dear, but strength is finite if you can't even fulfill your bare necessities."

"Let go of me," Elijah insisted, struggling. Blurriness swam throughout his vision as he pushed against Aisultan's arm.

"I will not. Elijah, how long has it been since you've slept? How long since you drank blood?"

His struggling lessened, the agitated breathing now loudly echoing Elijah's ears. A fox tail curved around his wrist, rubbing it in comforting motions. He pressed his chapped lips together and closed his eyes, before finally speaking again.

"I don't remember."

"It's been five nights since I've seen you retire properly to your room for more than an hour. And two weeks since you drank any blood of the sort. You barely had enough to sustain your injury, and now you push yourself for Eli without considering the consequences of not recuperating after!"

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