His Indulgence || Book Two

Talks

I finally regain consciousness, but was unable to even articulate what had happened. The inside of my head felt obscured, like it had been packed with cotton balls. What I did know was that I lost, and the only thing that came to my mind had been Eric. He must've been majorly worried.

"Get an ice pack and some painkillers, Ales. She's waking up." I recognized Eric's voice, laced in dismay.

Opening my eyes slowly, I noticed Eric and Santiago sitting at my right, both equally worried as upset. Alessandra stood at the foot of the bed, frowning sympathetically as she shuffled out the door.

I had been lied down in our bedroom, it was also quiet and dark outside.

"How long have I been unconscious for?" I croaked out. My lips felt clumsy and unusually large. It occurred to me that they must've been swollen. My ribs ached so bad, it was making it hard to breathe without undergoing any pain in my abdomen.

Eric swallowed, "A couple hours. Where does it hurt?"

I closed my eyes, concentrating in pinpointing where the source of the throbbing and aching initially came from. "My head and my stomach."

Alessandra walked into the room with an orange pill-container, ice pack, and a bottle of water.

I grunted as I sat up, enduring the pain. Ales quickly handed me the water and the container. Once I swallowed two pills, I tossed the container aside and pressed the ice pack against my stomach.

After some time of applying the frigid pouch on my bruises, they eventually went numb, and so I shifted the ice onto my head where it had been pounding hard against my skull. I gulped down more water and felt the headache ease away. I licked my lips and tasted the sour and bitter taste of my own blood.

The taste took me back to when I had been curled up against the fresh lawn, my blood flowing thickly down my nose and mouth, dripping onto my fingers. Each of her hits burned in my mind, but not in a way where it made me afraid, instead in a way where I felt the need to walk right out again and start training.

I wanted to defeat Ravena, no matter how many times I'd get beaten up before I would ever be able to.

So, with that thought, I winced getting out of bed and climbed onto my feet.

Eric had gotten up the instant I did. "Danica, you have to rest. Lay down." He insisted.

I avoided his eyes and tested the weight on my feet, feeling only a twinge of pain in my hip, but it had been manageable. Finally looking up at him, I asked. "Where is Ravena?"

He took a moment before answering, "Why does it matter? You need to be relaxing."

"I have to get better, so where is she?" I pressed on.

He began to shake his head, dropping his gaze on the floor. "No, I won't let you fight anymore. It's my fault you're hurt."

I snickered at his statement. "Eric, how would I ever learn if I've given up after one failed attempt?"

He kept his eyes averted with a firm and strong posture, obviously no change in his decision. Dark shadows lined beneath his eyes. He looked haggard and tired, and I knew it was from the worrying and stress he's been through this past week.

"She's in the kitchen." Santiago said with an arrogant smirk. He loved getting under Eric's skin lately, but right now— I was subconsciously thanking him for selling him out at this particular moment.

With that info, I stepped toward the door, but Eric caught onto my arm and swung me back. This time, his eyes were cold and deadly. I knew I had to be careful, because the look Eric was giving me even made Ales and Santiago stiffen in their seats. "I said you're not fighting."