1
SEBASTIAN
Ihave no idea how long I’ve been trapped in the darkness. Hours, days, weeks,months? I’m honestly not sure. The only knowledge I have that I’m not dead or stuck in some forever purgatory is that it’s interspersed with occasional sounds. Pockets of light. Hints of other people. But the weight of the darkness is pervasive, luring almost, and I’m helpless against it as it drags me back under.
Pain. I do feel that. Followed quickly by numbness. Hot and cold. I get plenty of that too, alternating in arrhythmic waves. Right now, I can’t tell where I am. I’m not awake. At least not fully. I know that. I can’t open my eyes and I can’t move my limbs.
But…
Lips on my forehead. Touch on my face.
“Sebastian, can you hear me?”
“Bellamy, you’re not supposed to be up right now,” Rowan orders. “You lost a lot of blood and the doctor said you need extra rest.”
“I’m fine. I’ve been feeling much better since the transfusion. I don’t like not being here with him. The kidsare scared, and I can only give them so many smiles and words of encouragement.”
“His vitals are improving. He’s doing better.”
A heavy sigh. “He still looks so pale. It’s been over twenty-four hours since the surgery, Rowan. Why isn’t he awake yet?”
“The doctor said he’s lucky to be alive. He too lost a lot of blood, but he also punctured a lung, nicked an artery or two, and had surgery. Those things take time to heal. Trust me, no one wants him to wake up more than I do. I hate being regent. You try battling the world of press over the prime minister being a crazy, murderous son of a bitch and the fact that the king is in a coma as a result.”
“Oh, you mean like battling the world because you’re the much younger American nanny engaged to the king who exposed said prime minister and was attacked by him?” she deadpans, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Yeah, I can see how you’d think they’re totally different.”
I try to force my eyes to open and my lips to smile but to no avail. Their words are cloudy and before I can stop it, I’m back under.
“Phaedra, there you are,” Bellamy whispers, relief in her tone. “You can’t wander like that. I couldn’t find you.”
“I wanted to be with Papa.”
“It’s the middle of the night, sweetheart. Sabrina woke up scared that you were gone.”
“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. What if Papa isn’t awake by then?” She starts to sniffle, and no. Don’t cry. My big, brave princess. Samil already took so much from her. I have to beat this. I have to wake up. I have to.
“What is that? What’s that noise?”
“His heart rate. It’s going up a little. It’s nothing to be worried about, but I’m going to get the nurse.”
“Papa, you have to be okay. The curse is gone now so you have to be okay.”
“Come on, Phaedra. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Blinding sunlight singes my eyeballs and immediately I scrunch my eyes closed. I’m foggy. Disoriented. Stiff. And in pain. Slowly, ever so fucking slowly, I shift, grimacing as a sharp flash of agony rips through me. I push past it and raise a hand to my chest where the pain stems from, and suddenly everything slams back into me.
The ball. Getting engaged to Bellamy. Samil.
The library.
The knife.
The window.
My grip slipping.
Samil falling.
Then something else hits me. Something infinitely stronger than all my memories and all my tragedies combined. I can’t describe what this feeling is. It’s…it’slifeflowing through me. A new energy source I’ve never experienced. It’s overwhelming in its manifestation. Something that blooms, grows,thrivesfrom the marrow of my bones to the hairs now raised on my skin.
