Page 36 of Lunar Desires
Still, changing into this warrior frustrated me as much as it galvanized me, breeding a massive headache. I felt like an impostor smothered in confusion.
Who was I now? Who did I have to be? And how did I balance it all?
Yeah, yeah. Blah, blah, blah. How many times would I whine about this? God, why couldn’t I just stop?
Much to my damn annoyance, I started blubbering.
“Is he crying?” a different guy asked.
What was that saying my stepdad used all the time? Ah, yeah. No shit, Sherlock.
I got depositedinto a room similar to Drake’s, but smaller and too bright.
Did these lights need to be on?
After changing out of my ruined clothes into a pale blue gown, I climbed onto the bed, reveling in the relief it provided to my weary body.
Phew. Nice to take a load off. The effects of the slime were gone now, but that didn’t mean I’d launch an attack. Oh, no. Not unless I wanted a bullet in my skull.
Heavy fatigue pinned me to the bed anyway. I lay like a starfish with my eyes closed against the brightness, spent from all the sobbing. Clearly at a non-popping distance from Drake.
The man who’d told me to be easy said Drake was in a stable condition. In a coma, but okay. He couldn’t tell me any more.
Relief hit me hard, bringing on more tears.
That’d been an hour ago, after they took my blood, gave me painkillers, a physical checkup, and locked me in this room. Not that I’d be attempting any daring escapes. I was too exhausted, wanting this day to end.
I drifted into a dreamless nap, waking up abruptly to bodies around my bed.
“Who…what…water?”
Someone handed me a bottle of water, the body blurry under the strain of the whiteness.
Wow, my eyes were super hazy, my body needed a lot more than a nap.
“How are you feeling?”
I choked on the water at the sound of the familiar voice, spluttering, making a mess, generally humiliating myself.
“What happened?” Isaac asked, coming closer. “Is the water bad?”
His face seemed to snap into focus the closer he got, his handsome features a welcome sight, a plaster covering the cut on his head my dad had given him after the attack at the mansion.
He offered me this supermodel smile, revealing his pearly whites.
I blinked, rubbing my eyes. “You’re here?”
“Yes, little brother. I know, I sound really calm right now. I’m not. I’m fucking fuming. But I’m rising above it. Keeping a level head.”
“As you should,” Erin answered him, her body blurry behind him.
My head spun again, this whole thing too much.
“Am I dreaming?”
The burn in my throat and nose from the water incident told me I was awake. But I didn’t trust anything, languishing in some crappy in-between place. Hoping for this nightmare adventure in London to end.
I passed out, finally coming to again at nightfall. I felt rested, the bright lights dim. I turned my head toward the window, my eyes fixing on a waxing crescent moon in the night sky.
