Of course, in the aftermath of this debacle there's going to be the need to explain what the fae had wanted to use her blood for. Eric knows that Dawn is different. She hasn't been forthcoming with him about why she's so different. He's asked on occasion. She diverts attention like a pro. He's very patient with her, as if he knows eventually she'll have to tell him.

Now that the fae know what she is and how to use her, that means anyone around her is in danger too. More will come for her. They always do. Maybe fae, maybe something else far more strange. In the back of her mind, she's thinking through all of this, worried Eric will dump her as more trouble than she's worth.

Her back is one big ache, but thankfully that stinging is dulled with the way she's drugged. Something inside her jumps around excitedly when he calls her 'mine'. She likes that. She wants to be his. Her crush on Eric Northman is far more than a crush at this point.

Dawn follows him to the cauldron and flips it over, dumping the contents out, some of it her own blood, now sullied by the soil beneath it. "Did I help?" She asks him. She really hopes that's it. Nothing horrible is happening, but geeze, she needs to sleep for eighty years after this with how tired she is. "The world's not ending?"