Chapter 314
ROMAN
+25 Points
I remembered the heat of it. The unnatural burn that had spread outward, like something poisonous had
been poured into my veins. It hadn’t been the kind of injury that disappears overnight.
Frowning, I lifted the hem of my shirt and tugged at the bandage carefully.
My breath stalled.
Smooth skin.
I stared at it, certain I was looking at the wrong place.
I shifted my hand slightly, tracing along my ribs, searching for raised tissue, for uneven texture, for anything that suggested healing flesh.
There was nothing.
No scar. Only slight discoloration.
No tightness.
It was as if it had never been there.
A cold feeling settled low in my stomach.
I lowered my shirt slowly.
That didn’t make sense.
Maybe it hadn’t been as severe as I remembered.
No. That wasn’t true. I remembered struggling to breathe for days, feeling like something was tearing
inside me. I remembered weakness in my legs. The fever too.
You don’t imagine that.
I stood.
Carefully this time.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.
Twisted slightly at the waist.
No flare of pain.
No resistance.
My movements were… clean.
I inhaled deeply, testing my lungs.
< Chapter 314
My ribs expanded fully.
Still no tightness.
+25 Points)
I flexed my hand absently, watching the tendons move beneath my skin. Even that felt sharper somehow…
not stronger in an obvious way, just… responsive.
A wave of unease passed through me.
Panic was slipping into my chest now.
I tried to retrace it.
Before I slept, the wound had still been there. I was sure of it. The fever had been clawing through me.
Then the dream.
I pressed my hand against my side again, harder this time, as if expecting the pain to suddenly snap back
into place.
Nothing.
Silence.
The room felt too still.
My breathing was steady. My heartbeat strong, not erratic like it had been when the fever peaked.
A strange tension crept up my spine… not from discomfort, but from awareness.
Injuries don’t vanish. Not without a trace.
Not without a scar.
And certainly not on me.
I sat back down slowly, elbows resting on my knees as I stared at the floor.
This wasn’t relief… It should have been.
Instead, it felt like standing at the edge of something I couldn’t see.
If the wound was gone, then something happened to me. Did I die?
I closed my eyes briefly, focusing inward.
Slowly, I opened them again.
Then I felt it.
My senses shifted all of a sudden. Every sound in the room sharpened. Each shadow seemed to twitch at the edge of my vision. The air felt thick, electric. I froze. Something was… wrong. Very wrong.
It was my eyes. I felt it before I even understood it… a pressure, a strange heat, a pull inside my skull. Hesitantly, I got to my feet and moved toward the mirror, my stomach coiling with dread.
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I leaned in and gasped as I saw it: light. My iris burned with a molten glow for a second, a searing brightness that made me stagger back, hands gripping the dresser for support.
- 25 Points
Then it was gone, leaving only the echo of its intensity behind, like a warning that hadn’t finished speaking.
“What…?” My voice was rough, almost lost in the tremor of fear.
My mind raced. Was it the vaccine Mr. Alexander had given me? Was I poisoned? I could tell he didn’t want me around. I remembered feeling something else while I slept too, a presence I had thought was imagined. I thought I saw Lady Faye, or maybe it was a dream. Was she a witch? Could she have…? No, that made no sense. Why heal me if the intent was to harm me anyway?
A cold dread settled in my chest. If not Alexander, if not Faye, then what?
Was this real? Had I imagined the light in my eyes? A hallucination? Fever dreams? My pulse throbbed in time with my panic. Every instinct in me screamed.
And then… a knock came at the door.
Startled, I froze, heart hammering, senses stretching toward the sound. My body coiled, ready, wary. Someone was there. I didn’t know who or why, and suddenly the world felt too loud, too sharp, too unstable. My head snapped toward the door.
I didn’t move for a moment after the knock, my body coiled, my mind still spinning from what had just happened. I could feel the lingering thrum of something new inside me, something I didn’t understand. My pulse was steadying now, but the unease hadn’t left.
Better to lay low. Better to act like I was still weak, still sick, still struggling. No one needed to know what had just happened. No one needed to know how different I felt.
I shifted carefully on the bed, adjusting my posture so it looked like the effort was difficult. I flopped back,
letting a quiet groan escape.
“Come in,” I dragged out.
The door creaked open slowly. My heart skipped. I tensed, muscles ready to spring if necessary.
It was the cook, carrying a tray of breakfast and a small stack of medicine. She paused at the doorway, smiling gently, as if checking that I was awake.
“Good morning, Roman,” she said softly. “I brought you something to eat and your medication.”
I forced a weak smile, keeping my voice low, even as my stomach twisted with uncertainty. “Thank you.”
She stepped inside and set the tray down carefully on the small table beside the bed. The aroma of the food filled the room… the smell was too strong for some reason.
I tried not to react.
“You need to eat right away,” she said firmly, “and take your medication.” Her tone was gentle but insistent. There was no argument in her voice, no room for negotiation.
< Chapter 314
+25 Points
“I will,” I said, letting the words hang there, deliberately slow. I wanted to appear compliant, still in need of
care.
She watched me for a moment, her eyes softening. Then she nodded, giving me a small smile. “Good. I’ll leave you to it. Eat, take your medicine, and I’ll check back later.”
As soon as she left, I let myself exhale, the tension easing slightly. I looked at the food, the medicine. My stomach churned at the thought of eating. I wasn’t ready for it… not yet. I didn’t trust myself to take in
anything.
Carefully, I set the tray aside. The medicine… I would definitely flush it down the toilet, the water washing it away silently. I wasn’t ready to submit my body to anything I couldn’t control anymore.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
