“Hold me,” he begged her. “Whatever I may become.”
Jonathan screamed and wept throughout the night, but Mina dared not let go. In some moments his face grew older, his skin paler, and his eyes shone with a red glint of malice. Then it felt as if she held a dead body in her arms, he was so still and motionless save for his breathing, but Mina choked back her own tears and pressed him close to her.
In the morning, he was not healed. But he was her husband, and for at least a little while, he was himself.