“You’re not fucking leaving me,” I whispered into her hair. “Not now. Not ever.”
Chapter Nineteen
Edwina
ThefirstthingIregistered was the faint drip of an IV, the slow slide of clear fluid threading through the line, its rhythm matched by the constant beeping of machines syncing with my pulse, louder than it should’ve been in such a still room. I blinked until the white ceiling stopped swimming above me, until the weight of the blanket pressed against my chest reminded me that I was alive, even if my lips were cracked and my throat burned like I’d been breathing in frost. My limbs felt heavy, uncooperative, as if someone had poured stone into my veins. I tried to move my fingers. They trembled weakly against the sheets.
“Hey.” The voice barely reached me, soft and frayed at the edges.
I turned my head, slow and uneven, and found Aster slumped forward in a chair beside my bed. Shadows sat deep beneath her eyes, exhaustion carved into every line of her face. Her hand caught mine almost immediately, thumb brushing across my knuckles in a nervous rhythm, as though she needed proof I wasn’t some ghost.
“You’re awake,” she said, her voice splintering mid-word. “God, Edie, you scared the shit out of us.”
Across the room, Gwen stirred. She’d been asleep, folded awkwardly in a chair, knees drawn to her chest, hair a wild mess from hours of worry. She blinked, dazed, and when her eyes focused on me, she exhaled hard, a mix of relief and disbelief.
“Oh, thank fuck,” she breathed, pushing up in her seat. Her voice trembled but she tried for levity. “Do you have any idea how dramatic you are? Getting lost on a mountain during a blizzard? That’s some next-level main character bullshit.”
I tried to laugh, but it came out wrong, half cough, half gasp.
Aster moved quickly, grabbing the cup of water from the bedside table and guiding the straw to my lips. I drank slow, each swallow scraping my throat raw before easing it.
“How long…” My voice broke mid-question, the effort enough to make my head throb.
“A day,” Aster said quietly. “They brought you in last night. Hypothermia. Mild frostbite. Your body temperature dropped too low.”
“You could’ve died,” Gwen whispered, not joking now. “You nearly did.”
I closed my eyes. The memories came in shards, wind screaming, snow burning against my skin, my own voice swallowed by the storm. Then warmth. Arms around me. The sound of my name spoken through clenched teeth.
“Who…” I swallowed hard, breath faltering. “Who found me?”
Silence. It stretched long enough for dread to settle deep in my chest. Aster and Gwen looked at each other over my bed, the kind of look that said everything words couldn’t. Guilt, maybe. Or something closer to awe.
Aster’s grip on my hand tightened. “Professor Stone.”
The name hit harder than the cold had.
“He carried you down the mountain,” Gwen added, her voice reverent. “No one else went up there. Not in that weather. We tried, but he didn’t stop. He just…went.”
Aster gave a shaky laugh, the kind that wavered between awe and something sly. “Yeah, he went all right. Straight into a fucking blizzard for you.” Her thumb traced over my knuckles again, a teasing glint slipping through the exhaustion clouding her eyes. “You should’ve seen him, Edie, half-frozen, wild-eyed, refusing to come down without you. It was…honestly, kind of movie-level shit.”
Gwen rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her mouth. “You’re saying it was romantic.”
Aster grinned, soft and wicked. “I’m saying if a man storms through a goddamn mountain to find you, there’s no way he’s doing it out of professional concern.”
Heat crept up my neck before I could stop it, a slow bloom beneath skin still cold to the touch. I tried to speak, to deny it, to tell them they were both ridiculous, but my throat refused me. Aster caught the flicker of color in my cheeks and leaned closer, whispering, “Guess hypothermia’s not the only thing making your heart race, huh?”
Gwen let out a quiet laugh, propping her chin on her hand. “She’s right. You better rest now, Edie,” she said, her grin widening. “Because once you’re stronger, we’re going to have a very long conversation about whatever the hell is going on between you and Professor Stone.”
Aster smirked, squeezing my hand. “Yeah, don’t think you’re getting out of that one, sweetheart. Sleep while you can. The interrogation starts soon.”
I turned my head, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but the warmth spreading through me wasn’t from embarrassment, it was the memory of him, of his voice in the storm, of his hands hauling me back from the edge as though he’d never let me fall again. My chest constricted, my heart stuttering under the weight of something that wasn’t fear but didn’t feel safe either. I looked down at my hand, the IV taped in place, the faint bruising underneath it blooming across my skin. I should’ve been grateful. I should’ve been terrified. But all I could think about was him—Professor Hayden Stone—the man who shouldn’t have followed, the man who always did anyway.
The warmth of Gwen’s hand lingered on my shoulder after she stood. She and Aster whispered something to each other before slipping out, their voices dissolving into the hum of machines and the mechanical pulse keeping time beside me. My eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion pulling at me from somewhere deep, dragging me downward.
Then the darkness came, not the comforting sort but the one that crawled beneath the skin, alive, merciless, refusing to let go. His voice cut through it first, rough and strained, carrying a wreckage that made the silence itself ache.
“I can’t lose you…”
