Page 72 of The Heir
Blinding white lights sear my retinas as I regain consciousness. Throbbing pain radiates from my shoulderandmy hip. I don't see Melody—shit, I don't see anything. Just white light. No. No, I can't be dead. This can't be the afterlife. There's no universe or reality where I end up inheaven, and the fact that I'm not currently bursting into flames leads me to believe….
I'm alive.
"Stay still, please," an unfamiliar male voice commands.
I grit my teeth and force my way up, sitting on—a gurney. A hospital bed. My heart sinks to the soles of my feet. Was that all a dream? It was so vivid, there's no way. I can't still be in the prison. I can't be in the rural hospital. I can't. I can't. Fear coils around my lungs, squeezing the breath from me.
"Oh, my god, babe!" Melody squeals, tackling me. I suck in a breath at the impact of her soft body against mine. She's heaven, of course, but everythinghurts. "Shit, sorry, oh—oh, god. Dante, baby, talk to me. Please. Please? I missed you. I missed you so fucking much."
"How long was I out?" I ask, rubbing my eyes with one hand and curling my fingers around the back of her neck with the other.
"Um, only a few hours." She peppers my cheek and neck with kisses. "But you scared me so bad—I thought I was gonna lose you. I thought… I thought you lost too much blood."
"He almost did," the unfamiliar voice chimes in. Finally taking a look at the voice's owner, he's tall with blond hair. The standard white coat and blue scrubs don't really hide the military—or possibly ex-military—build. It also doesn't change the way he holds himself.
"How?" I ask with a slight cough, wincing as the movement sends another wave of pain through my extremities.
"You got shot, idiot." Melnyk wheezes out a laugh. "Twice, looks like. Did you know your blood type is AB negative?"
"Why in the absolute fuck would I need to know that?"
"In case you getshot,you fucking walnut," Helena cackles. "Good to see you back, though. I was afraid Melody would go all beast mode and burn down the planet."
Melody looks down at her lap with a cheeky grin. "I probably would."
"Really, love?" I reach for her hand, and she excitedly grabs it. "You'd burn the world for me?"
"Is that a real question? Of course, I would. I'll burn it all down and bathe in blood if you get mildly inconvenienced." My delicious wife scoffs and tosses her hair over her shoulder.
"I don't deserve you, Melody. I don't deserve you, but I'll take you anyway. I'll take you and keep you. I'll shower you with diamonds. I'll watch you every second of every day. Do you remember when I said you could take the money and walk away?"
"Yes," she whispers breathlessly.
"Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You're never walking away from me, love."
Her pupils dilate, and I watch a shiver run down her spine. Good. I crack a self-satisfied smile. Even wounded, I can still light a fire in her. Speaking of wounds, I'm going to need another shot of pain meds and soon. The throbbing builds to a blazing roar, and I don't want to let go of her. I don't want to let go of my wife.
The heart monitor beside me beeps rapidly, and the world comes back to clarity. Right. I'm in a hospital bed in The Eligos's compound. Being poked and prodded by trained medical professionals. I recently had two bullets in me. I should probably not bend my wife over the nearest flat surface. I should not rip out my IVs and pound her into the floor.
Not yet, anyway.
"Calm down, Mr. Lyons," the doctor chides. He pushes a syringe of clear liquid into my IV. "The pain should be reduced soon."
I barely hear him. The relief is almost immediate, and it gives me the ability toreallyappreciate my wife. I can't wait to spend as much time in bed with her as possible. I want to run my hand over every dimple, every adorable, chubby roll, every flyaway hair. I want to bury my face in her neck. I want to sink my teeth into her soft flesh. I want to grab on and never let go.
After promising Dr. MacAvoy—the ex-military guy—that I would take it extremely easy, he let me go back to my room with Melody. Construction crews are already working on the blast damage, patching and reinforcing the walls, but our bedroom is blissfully quiet. I'm still sore, of course. But there was no lasting damage that they couldn't repair. So, now all I have to do is rest. Which I hate.
But Ella is dead. The Seraph is in shambles—GoCon forces caught wind of the attack almost immediately, and the only Beacon left alive is in South Africa. Based on the intelligence report Elliott provided earlier, he may already be dead. Good riddance.
We can breathe. We can relax. We can pick up the pieces and recover. We can go home and prepare the house for two little hellspawn—oh, god, Marie is going to either have a heart attack or burst into joyous tears.
And mymother. I stifle a groan, turning it into a cough, but wince when I remember my gunshot wounds. Some battles don't have to be fought immediately. I'm very happy to put her on the back burner. She'll know her grandchildren—ofcourse, she will.
But it will be on my terms. It will be on Melody's terms. It will be a decision that we make as a team. I will not allow my mother to fill our kids' minds with outdated and harmful ideals of what theyshouldbe.
"What are you thinking about?" Melody's soft voice pulls me from my silent contemplation.
"Just the future, love." I snake my hand over to hers, stroking her fingers. "We have one of those, you know."
