-Ronan Hale.
Walking sucked when you are just human with no supernatural strength and endurance like Lucien and Elara.
My wound was closed—Elara made sure of that—but my body still felt like hell. Every step sent a dull ache through my side, and I was still a little lightheaded from all the blood I'd lost. But stopping was not an option. We had to keep moving.
The vampires were hunting us. We couldn't stay out in the open.
Elara kept sneaking glances at me like she expected me to drop dead any second. "You should rest a little bit. You lost a lot of blood," she said, voice tight with concern.
"I'm fine," I muttered.
"You're not fine."
"I'm walking, aren't I?"
She sighed. "Stubborn idiot."
Lucien had been silent the entire time. He walked a few steps behind us, his movements eerily smooth, like the fight hadn't even touched him. He wasn't tired, wasn't aching, wasn't struggling to keep up. Vampires had it easy.
It was starting to piss me off.
