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“What are you doing, Huntyr? You plan on burning this entire castle to the ground and taking everyone with you?” Her eyes were frantic as she looked at me, looked at Venom, who now dripped with my blood.

I looked down to see a pool of blood forming around my feet.

Hells.

I tried to take a step, but my legs surrendered beneath me.

Headmistress had said something about the boundaries of magic, especially blood magic.

Maybe this was what she meant.

I landed on the ground, in the small pool of my own blood. My arms were still bleeding, offering magic that the ground no longer accepted.

I was only slightly aware of Voiler trying to pull me to my feet, was only slightly conscious as she left the courtyard, returning a few minutes later with Wolf.

“I’m sorry,” Voiler whispered. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’ll take it from here, Voiler.” Wolf’s voice melted over me, like a warm breeze. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Heal her,” she whispered, more of a demand than a suggestion, and then she was gone.

“I don’t need help,” I insisted, trying to push myself up.

“You can’t even stand.” Wolf knelt in front of me, concern dripping from his features.

“I just need to make it to my bed.” Exhaustion lapped at my body like waves at sea, ready to pull me under.

“Are you serious?” he demanded. “You’re falling apart, Huntress. Here.”

He threw my arm around his shoulder, even though we both knew he could pick me up without so much as blinking, and walked me silently out of the courtyard and down the hall to the bedroom.

“I don’t know what happened.” Each breath took more energy than I had to give. “I needed it to work, Wolf.”

He removed my arm from around his shoulders. I thought he was going to drop me on my bed, but he led me into the bathroom. He gripped my waist and hoisted me onto the edge of the bathroom sink.

“What are you—”

He lifted my wrist and surveyed my arm, grimacing at every slice from the knife. “Are you trying to bleed yourself dry?”

My head grew too heavy to hold up. I didn’t realize I was falling into him until he caught me, sliding a hand around my neck and holding my face to his.

“I’m helping you. Lift your arms.”

I objected, but he guided my hands above my head, moving both wrists together so he could use his free hand to peel my shirt up.

“No,” I muttered, too numb to think, to feel.

Wolf still didn’t know about the scars. If he saw them, he never asked questions about where they came from.

He stopped instantly, his eyes searching my face. He may have been harsh and rude and awful at times, but he would not undress me while I sat here objecting to it.

Unfortunately, the fight I had left in me slowly dwindled. And the way his fingers grazed my bare stomach made my chest do unnatural things.

“You need help, Huntress.” His voice had softened, his breath now tickling my cheek. “I hate seeing you like this. Let me help you.”

I clenched my jaw but nodded.

Carefully, tediously, Wolf lifted my sliced shirt. I hissed as the fabric passed the shallow gashes of my torso, the gashes on my shoulders. Wolf didn’t seem to look anywhere but my shirt, though I could have sworn I noticed his breath hitch as the fabric slid the rest of the way off my arms before finally falling to the floor.