"Riona, I'm losing my mind!" Lady Maris collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at her head. "I can't take it anymore. Help me!"
A few feet away, her daughter, Lisbeth, writhed in distress, the same cursed reinfection consuming her. She staggered, tearing at her hair, her once-bright eyes now a vacant, milky white. "Mother! Father, stop! Don't do it! I promise I'll do better—please!" Her voice cracked, raw with desperation.
All around them, more vampires succumbed, falling into the nightmare trap of their affliction. Riona's chest tightened. There was no time to question, no room for doubt. Whether Thorin's theory was right or not, she had no alternatives.
She spun to Thorin and Puck, resolve hardening in her voice. "We'll imbue our blood into our comrades!"
And so they did. Their blood mingled with their comrades', breaking the curse and setting them free. None of them could explain how it worked, but it didn't matter—it worked. That was enough.
