"Enigma blood essence," Vincent muttered through clenched teeth. "That's the only thing that can save him. And tracking down others of your kind—kidnapping them, extracting it—would take far too long."
Ryley's jaw tightened.
Before Vincent could say anything else, Ryley seized his wrist, fingers digging in with desperate strength.
When he looked up, the fear in his eyes had hardened into something unyielding.
"No one else's blood will ever touch my husband," he said hoarsely. "No one's but mine."
His grip tightened.
"So take it," Ryley demanded. "Take my blood essence. Now. Give it to him."
For a moment, Vincent could only stare at him.
Then, slowly, he let go.
As Vincent stepped aside, the medics surged forward at once, guiding Ryley back into the chamber.
He didn't resist as they prepared the equipment, already baring himself without hesitation—his focus fixed on the man lying beyond them, unmoving.
Nothing else mattered.
