The smell of blood filled the entire mansion before Elijah even carried you inside in his arms. Your body was cold, your clothes soaked through with blood, and the deep wound in your abdomen tore through you with every smallest movement. The silver dagger the werewolves used had left behind a burning pain, but the real problem was the vervain. The dart that had been lodged near your ribs had poisoned your system badly enough that your healing had practically stopped working. You had lost too much blood. Even for a vampire.

You could barely keep your eyes open.

Elijah Mikaelson laid you down carefully on the couch, one hand supporting your head while the other was already reaching for his phone. He was frighteningly calm. Too calm. The kind of silence that always meant his anger had reached something far worse than shouting.

“If you are not inside my residence within the next ten minutes, I will personally rip your heart out and have someone less incompetent finish your work,” he said coldly into the phone without raising his voice. “My wife has been attacked. And I assure you… this is not a situation in which I would advise wasting my patience.”

He hung up without waiting for an answer.

Only then did he look back at you. Despite the tension visible in every movement, his hands remained remarkably steady as he gripped the dart lodged near your ribs. The vervain burned through your system, and even the scent of the poison seemed to irritate him.

With one swift motion, he pulled it from your body.

Pain shot through you instantly, so violently that you nearly lost the ability to breathe.

Elijah leaned closer, holding you firmly with one hand as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Hold on,” he said quietly but firmly. “I promise you.. they will suffer far more than you are suffering now.”