Chapter 9: Cursed Mate’s Scent
With trembling hands, Lethia pressed against the wound on her lower abdomen where the dagger had pierced. She felt trapped between reality and a dream.
Everything seemed blurred, and the loud voices echoing around her slowly faded into the background as she collapsed onto the street.
Her senses dulled as she stared up at the night sky.
'Is this how I die? Why? What did I do so wrong?'
A cough wracked her body, blood spilling past her lips as a sharp ringing in her ears grew deafening. Tears welled up, and, for the first time, she gave in to the urge to cry.
She surrendered herself to whatever her body demanded—because what her mind and heart wanted no longer mattered. She was dying anyway.
Lethia's eyelids grew heavy, her vision blurring until the only thing she could see was that brown eyes stranger. 'Looks like I will get a debt I won't be able to repay this time.'
A bitter smile ghosted her lips before darkness claimed her.
As her eyes shut completely, Renar realised she was slipping into shock. He grabbed her wrist, his stomach twisting when he felt her pulse weakening beneath his fingers.
"I've already called an ambulance! They're on their way!" a passerby shouted.
Renar's eyes widened as he saw the dagger embedded in her flesh. It was the same model he had seen from his colleague some months ago—a poisoned silver dagger.