Chapter 247 Chapter 247

Chapter 247 Chapter 247
Amber

After a week in the hospital, Rayne was finally discharged. A whole week.

Seven endless days of antiseptic air, beeping monitors, whispered consultations, and me refusing to leave his side even for a proper meal.

They wheeled him out in a wheelchair, a thin hospital blanket draped over his legs despite his quiet insistence that he didn’t need it.

I had practically lived in that hospital room.

If someone had told me to describe the pattern of the tiles on the ceiling above his bed, I could have done it with my eyes closed. I knew the exact rhythm of the night nurse’s footsteps. I knew how the afternoon light filtered through the blinds. I knew how Rayne looked asleep with oxygen prongs beneath his nose and IV lines trailing from his arms.

Marina had tried to talk sense into me more than once.

“You need to rest,” she had cautioned gently. “If you fall ill, you won’t be any good to him.”

But I couldn’t.

Every time I even thought about stepping out of the room for more than a few minutes, panic crawled up my spine.

What if something happened again?

What if his heart stopped and I wasn’t there to feel it?

What if—

I couldn’t take any chances.

The bond I formed by marking him wasn’t as strong as the one we had when he marked me. That one had been overwhelming; fierce, blazing and impossible to ignore.

This one felt… different. Quieter. Not weak, but still new. Like a freshly planted root that hadn’t yet wrapped itself fully around the earth.

It took some getting used to—the way I could sense him faintly now, the way his presence brushed against the edges of my consciousness.

But it wasn’t the same. And that scared me.

Now, as we sat in the backseat of the car on the way home, Rayne stared silently out the window.

The passing trees reflected faintly in the glass. His face was pale but stronger than it had been a few days ago. The bruising around his temple had faded to a faint yellow. The bandages beneath his clothes were hidden from view, but I knew exactly where they were.

He hadn’t spoken much since he woke up.

At first, I blamed the medication. The painkillers. The anesthesia fog.

But now we were leaving the hospital. Heading back home and he still seemed… lost.

His gaze remained fixed outside, unfocused.

My fingers twisted together in my lap.

What if something was wrong?

Ever since coming back into my life, Rayne had gradually made it clear that he loved me. He hadn’t always said it outright. But he showed it.

In the way he looked at me.

In the way he stood between me and danger without hesitation.

In the way he died for me.

He literally died trying to save me.

But now—

What if that was exactly why he was reconsidering?

I hadn’t asked him before marking him. I hadn’t even hesitated. I was only thinking about saving his life. I never asked if he wanted to be bonded to me again, especially considering how he had reacted the first time even though it was by accident. Or rather a setup but that wasn't relevant right now.

What if he didn’t want the bond?

The thought stung sharply in my chest.

But I wouldn’t be surprised.

From the time I was young, everyone in my life had always abandoned me, deeming me unworthy of their love. First my father and brothers. Then Rayne himself when he chose Reed over me.

Then Ian, my first love. The man I had once dreamed of building a future with. I knew he hadn’t truly abandoned me. Fate had simply drawn a different path for us. But it still hurt.

It would always be a sore spot.

The only person who had claimed to love me unconditionally was Erlan. And goddess knew that what he felt wasn’t love. It was obsession. Possession. Something closer to a mental illness than devotion.

At least now I could breathe easier knowing he was no longer of this world.

Even so, if I was honest with myself…

I could understand why people left.

I was complicated. Broken. Still struggling to love myself fully.

“Please stop with the self-deprecating nonsense,” Irma scolded, unimpressed. “This is a joyous time and we should be celebrating. Our mate is alive and with us. That’s the only thing you need to focus on.”

I nodded almost imperceptibly.

She was right. Sometimes I spiraled without even realizing it.

Rayne was alive.

That was the miracle. That was the blessing. And there were good things waiting ahead.

Like the surprise welcome party we had planned for his discharge.

I had coordinated it quietly through texts and whispers. Marina had handled most of the details while I refused to leave the hospital room.

Almost reluctantly, I reached out and placed my hand over Rayne’s.

I squeezed gently and he turned to me, an easy smile stretched across his face. It was soft and warm but my mind betrayed me.

I found myself dissecting it.

Was it genuine?

Was it forced?

Was he just being polite?

“Are you alright?” I asked quietly. “Are you uncomfortable?”

He shook his head slightly.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Just thinking. Thanks for asking.”

And that was that.

No elaboration. No reassurance.

Ken, who was driving, grumbled under his breath about some teenager driving recklessly and trying to overtake other vehicles.

“Kids these days think the road’s a racetrack,” he muttered irritably.

But aside from that, the drive was quiet. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that makes every small movement feel amplified.

Finally, we arrived at the lake house.

The familiar sight of it made my chest tighten.

Home at last. I couldn't describe how much I'd missed this place.

I stepped out first and helped Rayne carefully into the wheelchair. Ken retrieved the bags from the trunk.

I had texted Marina earlier and gotten confirmation that everything was ready.

Still, as I wheeled Rayne toward the door, my heart pounded nervously.

I reached for the handle.

Took a breath and opened it.

“Surprise! Welcome home!”

The shout erupted all at once, loud and bright.

Even though I was expecting it, I still flinched slightly. Everyone was here. Marina, Ichika, Evalie, Roger, Ian and even Hadrian.

Ken entered shortly after us, setting the bags aside.

The room was decorated with simple streamers and balloons. A banner stretched across the wall.

For the first time since everything happened, I saw it.

A genuine smile. It spread across Rayne’s face slowly, lighting up his features in a way that made my chest ache.

“Thank you,” he said softly to everyone.

Evalie didn’t hesitate. She ran straight toward him.

“Daddy!”

“Careful,” I said quickly, instinctively stepping forward. “Please be careful, sweetie. Your dad is still recovering.”

Rayne chuckled softly.

“It’s fine,” he assured me. “I’ve missed my baby girl so much.”

He wrapped his arms around Evalie as she hugged him tightly.

“Have you been good while I was away?” he asked gently.

“Yes, Daddy,” she said proudly. “I kept praying for your recovery and I helped set everything up.”

She gestured excitedly to the decorations around the room.

My throat tightened.

Ichika clapped her hands lightly. “Come now, we have to cut the cake.”

I wheeled Rayne toward the center of the room where a beautiful strawberry cake sat waiting.

It wasn’t extravagant, but it looked delicious.

I didn’t need to ask to know who picked the flavor. Evalie was the obvious answer. The sight made me smile faintly.

It wasn’t much but it helped soften the horror of what her birthday party had turned into.

We gathered around as Rayne and Evalie cut the cake together.

Everyone cheered lightly.

Slices were handed out.

Evalie insisted on feeding Rayne herself.

He leaned forward obediently, opening his mouth dramatically as she held up a forkful.

Laughter rippled through the room.

Roger made a joke about Rayne milking his injury for extra attention. Marina rolled her eyes fondly. Even Hadrian smiled.

The room felt warm. Alive. Happy.

I should have felt nothing but gratitude but when I tried to eat my slice, I realized I couldn’t swallow more than a few bites.

My mind was elsewhere.

I watched Rayne laugh softly at something Ken said.

I watched him smile at Evalie.

I watched the way his fingers flexed unconsciously against the armrest of the wheelchair.

I was glad he was home. Beyond glad. But there was something heavy sitting in my chest.

Something unresolved.

I couldn’t delay it any longer.

Not after everything.

Not after he died and came back.

I needed to tell him how I felt.

Today.

It couldn’t wait anymore.