Chapter 25
“Leave?” Nathan’s voice rose an octave as he took a step forward, his hand gesturing wildly at the room. “Do you know who I am? Do you think you can just throw me out of here like some outsider?” His chest was heaving now, his fury building as he looked for something to vent it on..
Issca remained in his seat, but his gaze was sharp. “Yes. You’ve made your presence more harmful than helpful. You’re disturbing her recovery.”
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Nathan, clearly not taking the hint, looked around the room, his eyes landing on a small vase of flowers on the windowsill. In a fit of frustration, he grabbed it and threw it against the wall. Glass shattered, the sound reverberating off the walls as water and petals splattered across the floor. The room seemed to freeze for a moment, all eyes on the jagged pieces of glass now scattered at Nathan’s feet.
“What kind of hospital is this, anyway?” Nathan spat, his voice shaking. “What qualifications does this place even have to treat Doris? Do they even know what they’re doing?”
Issca, unfazed by Nathan’s outburst, crossed his arms over his chest and responded coldly. “This hospital once healed the Alpha King himself. Are you going to question the Alpha King’s choice of treatment now?”
Nathan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but nothing came out. His face paled slightly, the weight of Issca’s words sinking in. The Alpha King? He stood there, stunned, his chest still rising and falling with anger, but his voice failed him.
A nurse appeared in the doorway at that moment, glancing nervously between the three of us. Her eyes lingered on the broken glass for a moment before she hurried over to my side, preparing to tend to my wound. I still didn’t look at Nathan. My eyes remained downcast as the nurse gently cleaned the cut on my arm, her hands quick and efficient. Issca moved to assist, his hand brushing against mine briefly as he helped hold the bandages in place.
Nathan stood rooted to the spot, watching us, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He paced in the nowhere, he picked up a shard of the broken glass from the floor, his face twisted with
Corner of the room, muttering under his breath. Then, out of
ave For Secret Research Second Chance at Happiness
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desperation. Before anyone could stop him, he pressed the sharp edge into the palm of his hand, drawing a thin line of blood.
“Look at me. Doris!” he demanded, holding out his bleeding hand as if it was some grand gesture of suffering. “Is this what you want? Is this what you want to see me become? Does this hurt you like..
hurt me?”
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