Chapter 154

Chapter 154

Serena's POV

I didn't know exactly when I woke up.

At some point, consciousness floated up from murky depths. My eyes opened to soft morning light filtering through the blinds, falling in neat slats across the pale gray hospital floor.

I sat propped against the headboard, taking stock of my condition.

No dizziness. No nausea. And that awful tearing sensation in my chest—that chaos clawing at my insides—was finally gone.

I remembered Dragon jabbing a needle into me, and then tumbling into a nightmare—twisted faces, ice-cold syringes, and fear surging from every direction, like being trapped in a sealed black box with no way out. Later, I felt a familiar embrace, something warm and sweet trickling down my throat. After that, nothing.

I turned toward the window. Sunlight warmed my face.

The door opened. A doctor walked in with a nurse. Seeing me sitting up, he froze for a second, then hurried over, shining a penlight into my pupils. "Ms. Sterling, how are you feeling? Any dizziness, nausea, or urges to scratch yourself?"

"No." I shook my head. My voice came out hoarse. "Just a bit hungry."

The doctor had the nurse bring a blood pressure cuff and heart rate monitor. After running through the tests, he stared at the readings, baffled. "This doesn't make sense. With Angel's Bliss toxin, the metabolic timeline should be at least five days before full lucidity. You're awake in less than twenty-four hours, and with zero residual symptoms."

The nurse murmured beside him, "Could Ms. Sterling have an unusual constitution? I read in a journal once that some people have antibodies in their blood that accelerate neurotoxin metabolism—like a built-in defense system."

The doctor didn't argue. He jotted down a few notes in my chart and instructed the nurse, "Keep a close eye on her. Report anything unusual immediately. Oh, and has Mr. Blackwood been notified?"

The nurse packed up the equipment. "Not yet. Mr. Blackwood left around five this morning. He said he wanted to personally take the kids to school."

A warmth bloomed in my chest.

He still had three children to care for. Shuttling between here and home all this time must have worn him down.

The nurse had barely left when Lucas walked in carrying a breakfast tray. Seeing me sitting up, he nearly dropped it. "Ms. Sterling, you're awake! My God, way ahead of schedule. Mr. Blackwood's going to be over the moon!"

He set the tray on the bedside table and pulled out his phone to call. I raised a hand to stop him. "Don't. Let him spend time with the kids. I'm fine here."

I paused, fragments of chaotic memory surfacing, unease prickling at me. "While I was out… nothing bad happened, did it?"

Lucas scratched his head, answering casually, "Bad? Not really. Except when you were out of it, you gave Mr. Blackwood a hell of a time. You bit his arm so hard it was a bloody mess, clawed his back with your nails leaving deep gashes, and stabbed his chest with a ceramic shard—missed his heart by about an inch."

He trailed off halfway, clearly realizing he'd said too much. His eyes darted toward the ceiling. "Uh, Ms. Sterling, don't worry. Mr. Blackwood's tough as nails. He heals fast. He's totally fine now!"

I froze.

The memory fragments clicked into place—those warm, sticky sensations, the grip that never loosened even as I bit and clawed, and that faint voice I'd heard through the haze: "Had enough yet?"

It wasn't a dream.

I really had hurt Ethan.

"Was he badly injured?" My voice trembled. Something sharp twisted in my chest.

Lucas started to backtrack, but the door swung open.

Ethan walked in carrying a thermos, the chill of early spring clinging to his coat, the collar damp with melting frost. When he saw me, his eyes lit up instantly. He strode over. "Serena, you're awake! How do you feel?"

He reached out to touch my forehead.

I pulled back.

I looked up at him, guilt I hadn't sorted through yet flickering in my eyes, along with a confusing surge of something like grievance. "Ethan, take off your shirt."

He froze, hand suspended mid-air. "What?"

"I said, take off your shirt!"

My voice came out sharper than I intended, urgent. The moment the words left my mouth, the air in the room went still for two full seconds.

I heard Lucas shift beside me, followed by an almost inaudible cough.

Ethan's thermos wobbled slightly. He stared at me, his ears slowly turning pink. His Adam's apple bobbed. His voice came out strangely off-kilter, almost bashful—an expression I'd never seen on him before. "Serena, you… you just woke up. Your body hasn't fully recovered yet. This kind of thing isn't urgent. We can wait until you're completely better. I don't mind waiting…"

It took me two full seconds to realize what he was thinking.

My face ignited instantly, heat flooding all the way to my ears.

"No!" I waved my hands frantically, my voice stumbling. "That's not what I meant! Don't twist my words!"

Beside me, Lucas started inching toward the door, muttering under his breath, "Uh, Ms. Sterling, I just remembered I have something to take care of. You two take your time. Take your time."

He slipped out, thoughtfully closing the door with a soft click.

Now it was just the two of us. The awkwardness thickened.

Ethan looked at me, coughed once. I guessed he realized he'd misunderstood. His ears were still red. "So… then you wanted to…"

"I want to see your injuries!"

I cut him off, took a deep breath, forced the heat off my face, and steadied my voice as much as possible. I pointed at his shirt. "Lucas told me. I hurt you while I was unconscious. Your arm, your back, your chest—all wounded. I need to see how bad it is."

Ethan fell silent for a moment.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched. That subtle curve told me he was holding something back. "Oh? So you 'weren't' planning to do something to me? I thought…"