CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ALICE
The first thing I see upon opening
my eyes is an ivory ceiling.
It's spinning.
The white expanse above me whirls like a carousel gone off its tracks, and
with it comes a wave of nausea so
violent it feels like a physical blow to my stomach.
God, I'm sick.
My throat constricts, and the world tilts on its axis.
I try to sit up, but the movement
is a mistake.
My brain feels like it's rattling against the inside of my skull.
I lean over the side of the bed and retch, the bitter contents of my stomach landing squarely on... someone's shoes.
"Take it easy," a voice says.
I don't recognize the tone at first—it's too soft, too steady.
A warm hand begins to rub slow, grounding circles into my back.
I stay there for a moment, gasping for air, until the world stops vibrating.
I finally look up.
Sure enough, Marcus is sitting on the chair beside the bed.
His expression is uncharacteristically grim, his usual flirtatious smirk replaced by a tight, worried line.
I realize then that we're in the infirmary.
Everything comes rushing back in jagged fragments—walking with Mio, the sun on the grass, and then a sudden, explosive crack against my temple.
I wince, my fingers trembling as I reach up to touch my head.
The skin is hot and swollen... it feels like it's doubled in size.
"You're okay, Princess," Marcus says, his voice dipping into that low, protective register.
"I... told you... not to call me that," I croak.
My voice sounds like sandpaper, dry and broken.
Despite the pain, Marcus lets out a small, breathless chuckle.
He looks relieved, as if he'd been holding his breath for hours.
"There she is!!"
Mio hovers over me instantly.
Her eyes are so puffy and red it looks like they've been stitched shut.
She looks like she's aged five years in the span of an afternoon.
"Were you crying?" I ask, my heart aching for her.
"Of course, you idiot," she sniffs, a watery smile breaking through her panic.
"I thought something happened to you. I was this close to kicking Zade's ass."
I blink, the name sending a fresh jolt of confusion through my hazy mind.
"What did Zade do?"
"He was the one who hit you," Marcus says.
His jaw is so tight I can hear his teeth grind.
The air in the room suddenly feels heavy, charged with a dark, suffocating energy.
Only then do I look back at Marcus's feet.
"God... I'm sorry, Marcus. I'll pay for your loafers," I stammer.
I try to scramble out of the bed, driven by the instinctive need to fix things, to not owe anyone anything.
I manage two steps.
Then the room disappears.
The floor vanishes beneath me.
I'm falling, the darkness reaching up to claim me again—but this time, I don't hit the ground.
Strong, iron-clad arms haul me up.
One hand anchors my waist while the other stabilizes my shoulder.
I look up through the slits of my lashes, my vision swimming.
Zade.
He's holding me so tightly I can feel the frantic thud of his heart through his blazer.
His amber eyes are dark, swirling with an emotion I can't name—guilt, fury, or perhaps something much more dangerous.
"You're making it difficult," he rumbles.
His voice is a low vibration against my skin, sending a chill through my feverish body.
"Leave her, you motherfucker!" Marcus snaps.
He tries to step in between us, his hands reaching for me, but Zade doesn't budge.
He stands like a wall of granite, his grip on me tightening.
"Marcus, I want to be alone with Alice for a moment," Zade says.
His voice is gritted, a warning vibrating in his chest.
The two of them stare each other down, a silent war breaking out in the middle of the infirmary.
"I... don't... want to be alone with you," I manage to whisper, my pride flickering back to life even through the nausea.
Marcus glares at Zade, a triumphant glint in his grey eyes. "Now, you've got your answer. Leave us."
Zade's expression hardens into something cold and impenetrable. He looks like he's about to say something—to fight, to argue, to drag me away—but a new presence cuts through the tension.
"What's happening here?"
A stern, clinical voice shuts everyone up.
I'm gently but firmly placed back on the bed.
Before I can protest, I'm attacked by a piercing pen-light.
I groan, squeezing my eyes shut as the light feels like a needle stabbing into my brain.
The doctor moves efficiently, ignoring the two predators standing on either side of my bed, but the silence she leaves behind is even more terrifying than the shouting.
Zade is still there. I can feel him. And I know, even with my eyes closed, that the battle for Oakhaven just got personal.