THE PAWN AND THE KING

20

The hospital doors slid open, and a wave of antiseptic hit me, sharp and sterile, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in my mind. The fluorescent lights overhead were blinding, and everything felt too bright, too loud. I was barely aware of the sounds around me—the hum of machines, the shuffle of hurried footsteps, nurses calling out to each other—but through it all, I could feel Raeland's presence looming beside me, tense and agitated, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

I lay on the stretcher, every muscle in my body aching, barely able to move. My vision blurred at the edges, but I could still make out the sound of his voice—loud, commanding, cutting through the noise of the emergency room like a whip.

"I need Dr. Ricardi, now!" Raeland barked, his tone so sharp it made the nurses flinch. His presence was overpowering, and despite my weakened state, I could feel the intensity radiating off him in waves.

"Dr. Ricardi is off duty right now, but we've contacted her. She's on the way," one of the nurses stammered, clearly trying to keep her composure.

"Make her faster," Raeland snapped, his voice cracking with an urgency that almost felt desperate. His fists were clenched, his jaw tight, and for a moment, I thought he might just storm past them and find the doctor himself.

I tried to move, to sit up, but the straps on the stretcher held me down, and my body refused to cooperate. "Raeland," I croaked out, my voice barely audible. I could taste the dryness in my throat, and it felt like every word was a struggle. "Raeland... I'm fine."

The moment he heard me, his head snapped toward me, all the fire in his eyes dimming for a split second. His towering figure rushed over, his hand finding mine as he leaned over me, his breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts. "Baby, you're awake," he whispered, his voice softening, though the frantic energy still thrummed beneath his words.

I blinked up at him, trying to smile, but my lips barely moved. Hearing him call me "baby" again—it sent a strange warmth through me, even in the midst of all this chaos. I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it the first time, but now, hearing it again, it felt real.

"Stop... worrying," I whispered, my voice shaky as I tried to sound reassuring, but even I wasn't convinced. Every part of me ached, and my head was spinning, the lights above me blurring into one. "Just... let the doctors... do their job."

Raeland looked like he wanted to argue. His lips pressed together, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than I had ever heard it before. "I thought I lost you," he whispered, his hand tightening around mine. His eyes—those intense, stormy eyes—held a flicker of fear, a raw emotion I had never seen in him.

I squeezed his hand, though my grip was weak. "I'm here," I breathed, barely able to speak above a whisper. "But you can't—" I swallowed hard, fighting back the dizziness, "—you can't just barge in... like this. They're not your soldiers, Raeland. They're here to help."

He frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he didn't quite understand why I was telling him this. His mouth twisted into a pout, something so out of character for him, and yet somehow it made him seem more real, more human. The sight of this hardened man pouting like a child would have made me laugh if I had the strength.

"You need to let them work," I added, my voice a little stronger now, though it still trembled with weakness. "Please."

Before he could respond, Alex appeared beside him, his steady presence a calming force in the storm that was Raeland. "Let's go," Alex said firmly, placing a hand on Raeland's shoulder. His voice was calm, measured, the complete opposite of Raeland's chaotic energy. "You're scaring the nurses. They can't help her if you keep hovering over them like that."