KIRA

The transfusion took hours.

Adrian lay on a bed next to Dante's, tubes connecting them, his blood flowing into my mate's veins. The healers monitored constantly, adjusting flow rates, checking vitals, murmuring in worried tones.

"His blood pressure is dropping," one healer said, checking Adrian. "We should stop—"

"No," Adrian said firmly. "Keep going. How's the Alpha King?"

"The poison levels are decreasing. Slowly. But it's working." The healer looked between them. "But sir, if we ...