Chapter 60 Suspicious Discoveries
Vanessa
As soon as Xander slumps, Max gets into action, asking a few of their men for assistance.
I'm a little surprised to see Dorian, but there's no time for pleasantries as we're all focused on getting Xander treated as soon as possible.
I run behind them, ignoring the murmurs and looks of concern from the pack members.
A few minutes later, Xander is laid down on a large four-poster bed in a special unit of the pack clinic - usually reserved for the royal family.
The pack doctor arrives, together with a few of his subordinates, a flurry of activities ensuing as they fuss over Xander, checking his vitals, and trying to stabilize his breathing that has now become more shallow, all the while, my heart threatens to rip out of it's cage.
I pace the length of the room, my hands clasped tightly behind my back, refusing Max when he offers to stay and watch over Xander while I go change our of my now very bloody clothes. As suffocating as the smell of blood, herbs and antiseptics are, they're nothing compared to the sharp, pungent, smell of fear lingering in the air.
I walk over to him again, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest through his shirt that has now been cut open, his side bandaged thickly to stop the excessive flow of blood.
"You fucking idiot," I mutter for the hundredth time since he's collapsed. But of course, he doesn't reply me. His skin looks pale beneath the harsh lights, and he's still. Too still...
It's been five hours now, but there's no progress, yet.
"Staring at him all through won't make him heal faster, Nessa," Max says behind me.
I whirl around to face him, and suddenly irritation flares in my core. "What the fuck else am I supposed to do?" I snap, my voice trembling a little at the helplessness I feel.
His expression softens, and I notice the dim in his usually mischievous green eyes. "We can't do anything except wait. Truly, we've never had a situation where he's been hospitalized for this long, but I know he'll come out of this better than we expect, and soon," he soothes.
Max comes to stand beside me, and we both look down at Xander's usually cold face, now relaxed, and my hands itch to hold him.
"Trust him," Max whispers.
"What will you be doing?" I ask him.
"Going to come through every moment, conversations, and actions that all led that motherfucker here in the first place," he growls, his voice taking on an edge I've never heard Max use.
"I want to know everything," I grind out. His jaw clenches, and he gives me a single nod.
Then he's gone.
I sigh.
The image of Xander pummelling the hell out of his opponent refuses to leave my head. I've never seen Xander go on a rampage like that. The bastard had said something to offset him. I just know it, because I monitored their interaction closely.
The moment he had appeared, something didn't feel right, it almost felt like something very wrong was going to happen. Now, it did, and I want to beat myself up for not doing anything about it.
Max comes back but with no special information about the bastard who I now know to be Sean, and he finally manages to convince me to go take care of myself.
I only remember going through the motions of showering and barely eating before running back to the clinic. This time, I take a seat at the edge of the bed. A sudden calm washing over me when I take his hand. His breathing has been regulated once again and I heave a sigh of relief.
That's when I notice it. A small, shiny object protruding from his front pocket. It's so small it's easy to miss.
I thought he'd been changed and everything else removed from his clothes?
Carefully reaching into the pocket, my hand connects with a smooth surface and my eyebrows draw in confusion when I pull it out.
A sapphire-colored gemstone with intricate carvings stares right back at me. It has exactly the same, oddly familiar broken circles surrounding it's shell. On instinct, I close my eyes and graze my fingers over it, and suddenly, a cold sensation washes over me, it's invasive and I shiver.
A blur of images shift in rapid successions behind my eyelids. I try to concentrate on one thing, to get a proper hold of something, but I can't.
After what feels like hours, the images settle and become clearer.
Then the voices start. They sound distant, like a conversation from a memory.
"Where is the child, Ariana?" A sharp voice demands.
There in the middle of an open white field, kneels my mother. I can't see her face, but her voice and her movements are clear enough for me to known it's her.
"My child has done no wrong, please, take me instead," she pleads.
This moment feels like deja vu - like a scene I've watched so many times it's now ingrained in my skull. But if my memories of my dreams serve me right, they're not the same person.
"You are useless compared to her. She serves a much greater purpose with what lies within her," the voice says with glee. I can't make out the gender, and I watch my mother subtly caressing the sapphire gemstone on her neck.
"You will never find her. She's been locked away for good, and there's no way to break her free, forever," mum laughs.
My heart trips. What does she mean by that?
"Impossible!" the figure growls and swipes a hand, knocking my mother down with a force that rattles through me.
Then everything clears and I'm back beside Xander, his hand still clutched tightly in my grasp. I drop it immediately, feeling like I just got burnt.
I stand and stagger away from him, as I try to steady myself on my feet, refusing to look away from the object in my hand. This is one item of my mother's I had searched for, for such a long time after I lost her.
She had told me that it was something that had been passed down through every generation, and it'll become mine once the time came.
Why does Xander have this? How? Had he known all along?
Taking a deep breath, I force my legs to move, brushing past Max where he stands at the door, concern etched on his features.
"Hey, Nessa. What's wrong?" he asks, taking my hand but I curl away from his touch.
"Nessa," he calls again but there must've been something in my eyes that makes him hold his hands up in surrender, careful to stand away from my line of sight.
I don't know where I'm headed yet, but I know staying one more second there with him is going to make me really lose it with the bitter taste of betrayal rising up my throat, I don't trust myself with what I'll do next.