187
Alaric’s POV
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room were harsh, casting a sterile, gloomy glow over everything. Emilia sat on the edge of the examination table, her fingers twisting in the hem of the hospital gown she’d reluctantly agreed to wear. She looked so small, so fragile, and it killed me.
I stood at her side, arms crossed, trying to keep my frustration in check. The doctor had just left, promising to return with results from a quick scan. I didn’t trust him-not him specifically, but the idea of anyone else taking care of her when I wasn’t in control of the situation.
“You can stop hovering now,” Emilia muttered, her voice sharp but low.
I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not hovering.”
She shot me a look, arching a brow. “You’re practically breathing down my neck.”
I stepped back slightly, exhaling through my nose. “You just escaped a kidnapping, Emilia. Excuse me if I’m a little… attentive.”
“Attentive?” she repeated, her lips twitching like she might laugh. “Alaric, you’ve been barking orders at doctors and glaring at anyone who walks into this room.”
“They’re lucky I’m not doing more,” I shot back. My voice softened as I added, “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
Her gaze flicked to the floor, her hands still fidgeting. “I know you are,” she said after a pause. “But I’m not broken, Alaric. I don’t need to be wrapped in bubble wrap.”
I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms again. “You were kidnapped, Emilia. Beaten. Starved. Forgive me if I don’t trust the world not to take another shot at you.”
“I get that,” she said, her tone more defensive now. “But you can’t control everything. I got myself out of there, didn’t I?”
“That’s not the point,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
Her eyes narrowed. “Then what is?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to rein in the rising tension. “The point is that you shouldn’t have had to. You shouldn’t have been taken in the first place.”
Her silence filled the room like a weight. I glanced at her and saw the flash of guilt in her eyes, the way her lips pressed into a thin line. Damn it. I hadn’t meant to make her feel worse.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly. “Fuck.” I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “I was supposed to protect you, damnit. I was supposed to protect you, not let them take you away.”
“I know what you meant,” she replied, her voice tight. She shifted, pulling the hospital gown tighter around her. “But I’m not going to apologize for getting myself out of that situation.”
I took a step closer, my tone softening. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m proud of you, Emilia. You’re strong-stronger than I could’ve imagined.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, wary but searching. “Then stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”
I wanted to argue, to tell her that her strength didn’t erase the danger she’d been in or the scars she’d carry. But the stubbornness in her gaze stopped me. She needed this-needed to feel in control after everything that had been ripped from her.
“Alright,” I said finally, my voice low. “But I’m not backing down if I think you’re in danger again.”
She nodded, the tension between us easing just a fraction. “Fair enough.”
“And I don’t think I’ve said this enough, Emilia. I’m so so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m so sorry I was so stupid that ”
“You’re not stupid for wanting normalcy too,” she cut me off with a tentative smile. “It’s okay, Alaric. I know you were going to get me out of that damned place anyway.”
The door opened, and a nurse stepped in, holding a clipboard. “We’re ready to take her for the scan now,” she said with a professional smile.
Emilia slid off the table, but I was by her side in an instant, steadying her before she could take a step.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, brushing my hand away.
“I know,” I said, not moving.
She shot me a look but didn’t argue further as the nurse wheeled in a gurney.
“Do I really need this?” Emilia asked, gesturing to the gurney.
“It’s standard procedure,” the nurse replied.
Emilia rolled her eyes but climbed onto the gurney without protest. I followed as they wheeled her out, staying just behind. There was no way I’d let her out of my sight again.
The scan didn’t take long-fifteen minutes, maybe twenty-but it felt like hours. I paced the small waiting area outside, ignoring the stares from other patients and staff. When they finally brought her back, she looked annoyed but otherwise unscathed.
“Happy now?” she asked as I helped her back to the examination room.
“Not until we’re home,” I replied.
The doctor returned shortly after, his expression neutral as he flipped through the notes on his clipboard. “Everything looks good,” he said. “No fractures, no internal bleeding. You’re lucky, Ms. Abramo.”
Lucky wasn’t the word I’d use, but I bit my tongue.
“She’s clear to go?” I asked instead.
The doctor nodded. “I’ll write up a discharge form. Just make sure she rests and stays hydrated. She’ll need time to recover fully.”
I didn’t wait for him to leave before turning to Emilia. “Let’s go.”
She slipped off the table, swaying slightly. My hands were on her immediately, steadying her.
“Alaric,” she said, her tone half-exasperated, half-grateful.
“I’m just helping,” I said, guiding her toward the door.
The drive home was quieter than I expected. Emilia leaned her head against the window, her eyes half-closed as the city lights blurred past. I stole glances at her when I could, noting every bruise, every shadow under her eyes.
“I’ll be fine,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but firm.
I glanced at her again. “I know you will.”
Her lips twitched, almost a smile. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I am,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry.”
She didn’t respond, but the faint smile lingered, and for now, that was enough.