Page 84 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
It’s impossible to tell.
There is a drip in my arm, linked to a metal stand at the side of the bed.
I’m not in a hospital. This is someone’s home. I’m not close enough to the window to see where, though.
I hear a soft sigh, and my eyes dart around the room.
There. On the sofa near the window.
A figure wrapped in a blanket stirs and rolls over.
“Belle?” I whisper in disbelief. “Is that you?”
In a flash, she’s up, rushing towards me, her hair a mess, her clothes pulled to the side, a wild, disheveled look about her.
She stands next to my bed and takes my hand, reaching out to touch my cheek with the backs of her fingers.
“Ardalion, you’re awake,” she gasps, smiling, her eyes glittering in the dark light.
“And you’re still here.” It takes effort to speak.
I furrow my brow. My eyes trace over her.
She looks tired, a mess—and still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life.
Cautiously, I lift my arm, satisfied when the pain isn’t too bad. I touch her cheek, and she leans her face into my hand.
“You shouldn’t move so much yet,” she whispers. “The doctor will be angry if he sees you sitting up.”
“Everything hurts,” I groan weakly, already feeling tired after such a short time awake.
She giggles and takes my hand in hers. “It’ll take time to get your strength back.”
“Where am I?” I ask, realizing all I cared about was seeing her, and I don’t even know where we are.
“Benedikt’s mansion in Las Vegas. My brother had them bring you here after your surgery. He was worried about security at the hospital and that the enemy might take advantage of your weakened state.”
I close my eyes. “I can’t remember—"
“You took a bullet for him, Ardalion. The only reason my brother is alive is because you took that bullet for him.”
Well, that makes sense. He feels obliged to help me.
As soon as I’m healed, he’ll send me back to LA, away from her.
I don’t want to heal, then.I close my eyes, trying to hide the emotions welling in them.
Her touch against my jaw makes me open my eyes again, not wanting to miss a moment with her. “Are you hungry? I can sneak into the kitchen before anyone wakes up and make us something to eat.”
“Are you kidding? I’m starving.” I try to laugh, but the stabbing pain is so terrifying I choke on it.
“Oh,” she squeals, worried for me.
I never want to leave her side. I don’t even want her to go to the kitchen. It feels like I might never see her again afterwards. I’m not even hungry; I just want to do things with her. Anything. Everything.
“I’ll be right back,” she says, gently touching my hand before turning away.
While Belle is out of the room, I try hard to pull myself together, to reason, to be logical. But I can’t.
