The overseer’s final declaration still echoed through the arena: "Victory to Lady Katerina by submission. The trial is concluded."
Eve stood in the center of the combat ground, every muscle in her body screaming, her vision swimming with exhaustion and pain. Blood dripped from the cut above her eyebrow, from her split lip, from her nose where one of Katerina’s strikes had landed harder than she’d realized in the mont.
Her power reserves were....gone. Completely, utterly depleted. The feeding she’d done from Katerina’s hostile energy had sustained her through the fight, but the mont the combat ended, the mont she stopped actively processing that aggressive projection, the reality of how much she’d burned through hit her like a physical blow.
She’d drawn on power she didn’t know she had. Accessed her parents’ techniques through sheer desperate need. Pushed herself past every limit Raphael had carefully established during training.
And now her body was sending very clear signals that there would be consequences.
Katerina was still speaking....sothing about respect, about worthiness, about potential. Eve heard the words but couldn’t quite process them, her mind starting to fragnt at the edges as shock and exhaustion overwheld conscious thought.
The warrior leaned close, said sothing for Eve’s ears only. Eve nodded chanically, not entirely sure what she was agreeing to, just knowing instinctively that the appropriate response was acknowledgnt.
Then Katerina stepped back, bowed with genuine respect, and turned to leave the arena.
Eve watched her go, she five-hundred-year-old warrior who had just beaten her, who had also just endorsed her claim, walking away with her entourage following in perfect formation.
The mont Katerina disappeared from view, sothing in Eve’s body simply....gave up.
Her legs went out from under her.
She was falling....the packed earth of the arena rushing up to et her face....and then strong arms were there, catching her before she hit the ground.
"I got you," Damian’s voice, rough with emotion and fear. "I got you, baby. I got you."
He went down to his knees, still holding her, cradling her against his chest while his hand ca up to her face, trying to wipe away the blood with gentle, futile gestures. There was too much of it....sared across her cheek, dripping from her nose and mouth, matting her hair where the cut above her eyebrow continued to bleed.
"You did so well," Damian murmured, his voice breaking slightly. "You fought so well. You were extraordinary."
Eve tried to respond, tried to tell him she was okay, but her voice wouldn’t work. Her throat felt raw.....from screaming during the fight or from sothing else, she wasn’t sure.
The world was going slightly gray at the edges, sounds becoming muffled and distant.
Through the bond, she could feel her other mates approaching....Damon’s frantic energy, Silas’s controlled concern....but they seed very far away, separated from her by sothing she couldn’t quite identify.
"Eve," Damian said, and there was urgency in his voice now. "Eve, baby, look at . Stay with ."
She tried. Really tried. Looked up at his face, at the gray eyes that were currently filled with fear she’d never seen there before.
Then her body started shaking.
It started small....just a tremor in her hands, barely noticeable. But it spread rapidly, becoming a full-body convulsion that she couldn’t control, couldn’t stop, couldn’t even understand.
And the blood.....
The blood got worse.
What had been steady dripping beca a flood, pouring from her mouth, her nose. She coughed....a wet, horrible sound....and more blood ca up, spattering across Damian’s shirt, across his hands where they held her.
"EVE!" Damian’s voice, no longer controlled, pure panic. "Eve, no, stay with ...."
Damon reached them, skidding to his knees beside his brother. "What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?"
"I don’t know!" Damian’s hands were shaking now too, trying to hold Eve steady while she convulsed, trying to wipe blood away even as more replaced it. "She’s....sothing’s wrong, sothing’s very wrong...."
Silas was there a second later, his face going white when he saw the blood. "RAPHAEL!" His voice cracked with the volu, with the desperation. "RAPHAEL, NOW!"
The crowd in the stands had gone deathly silent....the celebration and processing of the trial’s outco completely forgotten as everyone watched the Luna convulsing in her mate’s arms, blood pouring from her in quantities that suggested internal damage, serious damage.
Pack warriors stood frozen in place, wanting to help but not knowing how, held back by the instinct that this was alpha business, mate business, beyond their ability to intervene.
Marcus had his hand on his phone, clearly seconds from calling ergency services despite not knowing what kind of ergency services could possibly help with whatever this was.
Lady Seraphine had risen in the premium seating area, her expression shocked....perhaps for the first ti in centuries genuinely surprised and concerned by what she was witnessing.
Eve’s eyes rolled back in her head, showing only whites. Her body arched in Damian’s arms, the convulsions becoming more violent. Blood was coming from her ears now too....trickling at first, then flowing freely, and the brothers understood with horrifying clarity:
This wasn’t just exhaustion. This was her body shutting down. Catastrophically. Fatally.
"Where the fuck is Raphael?!" Damon shouted, his voice breaking.
As if summoned by the desperation in that cry, Raphael appeared.
Not walked up. Not ran across the arena. Appeared....there one instant where he hadn’t been the mont before, having moved so fast it looked like teleportation, his centuries of experience allowing him to cross distance in ways that defied normal perception.
His expression when he saw Eve was....terrifying.
Not because he looked worried. Because he looked horrified. Because an ancient incubus who had survived two hundred years of Court politics, who had seen countless battles and deaths and catastrophes, looked genuinely frightened by what he was seeing.
"How long has she been convulsing?" he demanded, already reaching for Eve.
"Thirty seconds, maybe forty," Silas said, his voice steady despite the fear bleeding through the bond.
"Fuck," Raphael breathed. "We need to move. Now. My room has the strongest wards....no, your bedroom, it’s closer and the mate bond will help stabilize her."
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