For a moment, Kairo could only stare. Everything around them—the wet drag of the monster's limbs above, the hiss of falling grit from the ceiling—blurred into white noise.
The words had been clear. Too clear. They cut through Eli's ruined voice like a blade.
"Use my blood, Kairo."
'Is he being serious right now?'
Shock crawled down his spine like ice. His black eyes narrowed, locking on the trembling figure in his arms as if the boy might vanish if he blinked.
Blood clung to Eli's lips in dark streaks, ran in thin trails down his throat, dampened his torn clothes. His skin was pale and clammy, every tremor in his body obvious against Kairo's hold—yet his yellow gaze still burned faintly through the haze, stubborn, alive.
Kairo's pulse ticked once, hard. Only one question came out, clipped and low, almost against his will.
"…Are you suicidal?"
