(30) Hurts |Regan's POV|

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To hold my breath every time my skin came in contact with hers, to have all these questions with no answers, to be eaten by my doubts as I walked down that one-way road I wouldn't admit led nowhere, it hurt.

I couldn't figure out how to escape that prison whose walls were too thick to break and to high to scale, I couldn't contain myself with that less-than kind of life and I couldn't just walk away from it. It hurt. The closer I got to her the more it hurt, the more it hurt, the tighter I wanted to hold onto her.

"Careful," I grunted when she brushed one of the sorer spots. Her fingers were gentle on my skin as she applied the ointment but the occasional graze over the worst of wounds couldn't be helped with the task she was performing.

"It's not getting any better, Regan. It worries me that I can't even heal you but must resort to human medicine," Christine commented.

It worried me too and, looking at my bare chest, I bobbed my head in acknowledgment. It was indeed not getting any better. My skin was painted different shades of black and red, it almost looked like a depiction of a horrible crime scene. Your mind wanted to make sense of what you were seeing but couldn't and you ended up looking at spots of color. Burns and bruises covered my chest and arms and it was s ugly I had trouble stomaching it myself. Even my lips were worn out and cracked. Every single part of me hurt, burned and itched.

"You need to tell her, Regan," Christine pointed out a few moments later. "You should have told her weeks ago."

Meeting my sister's eyes, I could see the concern in them as her lips tipped up into a sad smile, her look one of pity. I couldn't let my mate regard me like this, ever.

"You don't know what's happening to me?"

"No idea," she said, her words clipped. "But I know you need to end this before there's a permanent damage."

I felt a frown form on my face. Did she know what she was asking of me?

She whipped her head aside, trying to sweep away the few locks of blond hair that had fallen out of her low bun then capped the ointment and placed it back on the table.

"It's done. You can go back and get more of these now," she said and poked a finger into my chest, causing me to groan again.

"Don't do that," I warned.

She just rolled her eyes at me before slipping the gloves off her hands then mumbled, "You're the one doing this to yourself. Just get it out there."

I closed my eyes, inhaled, exhaled, opened them again to direct a pointed look at my sister. "You know I can't do that, don't you, Chris?"

She pressed a finger at the base of her nose then pushed her glasses up and huffed out an angry breath. "So, you're going hide it."

I nodded. I was going to buy me as much time as I could even if every second hurt.

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