Maeve
Hayden paced around the room for a long while, lingering in meditative silence as I watched him. Occasionally, he turned to glance at me but made no further moves to touch me, or Troy.
I was kneeling next to Troy, trying desperately to wake him up. He was struggling to keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, the effects of the wolfsbane still gripping his body.
I looked around for anything sharp, anything I could cut myself with to give Troy some of my blood, and finally resorted to bringing my hand to my mouth, preparing to bite into the flesh beneath my thumb.
“Uh, no. Don’t do that.” Hayden was at my side in an instant, knotting his fingers in my hair and pulling sharply. I screeched, which seemed to rouse Troy from his stupor enough to bare his teeth and grimace, his fingers twitching.