Cinderella: A Fractured Fairytale

Seventy-Five

Jovette's POV

Chapter 75

***

My eyes opened slowly as I exhaled, wondering why I wasn't dead. After a moment, I realized the pain in my chest was gone.

Someone was carrying me down the corridor towards the room I'd used the previous night. My eyes focused on his face and I gasped softly. "Ethan?"

He stopped, eyes widening with relief. "She's awake," he called back.

Not Ethan. Eric.

"Where's Ethan?" I asked, struggling.

Anastasia was hurrying up to peek at me. She looked slightly timid, and I realized with a jolt that she still thought of me as the disagreeable, argumentative, grumpy older sister I'd always been to her.

Right now, though, I didn't care what she thought of me.

"Where's Ethan?" I repeated, a little more forcefully. My mind was spinning with worry. Is he okay? Did he run away? Did he somehow... die?

No! I refused to think about that. Ethan could not die.

Eric let me get down, his expression solemn. He opened his mouth, then closed it, as if trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say.

Suddenly, I was paralyzed with fear. What if Ethan was dead?

Finally, Eric spoke. His voice was soft, as if he didn't trust himself to speak louder for fear that his voice might break. "Ethan is... alive. For now."

Panic and relief jolted me in the same moment. "For now? Where is he?"

Eric swallowed and beckoned me towards another door on the other side of the hallway.

I peeked into the room slowly, heart pounding with dread. Ethan was laying still on a couch, his chest barely rising and falling.

"Ethan!" I hurried to his side. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know." Eric's voice was shaky. "He... got his magic back-"

"He did?"

"-and then he healed you, but I think it was too much for him, and he just collapsed."

Shock settled in my chest, thumping with the pounding beat of my heart. "So... I'm the reason he's dying?" Tears were gathering in my eyes.

Eric winced. "Well-"

"It's not like-" Anastasia began.

I turned away, covering my face with my hands. "I need to be alone." I whispered.

They left silently.

Slowly, I knelt beside the couch, softly tracing the line of his jaw. "Ethan," I whispered. "Please wake up. Please."

He didn't stir.

A tear rolled down my cheek. "Please." It came out as a sob. "I don't even need you to love me, I just need you to be okay."

No reaction. His chest rose and fell as weakly as before.

Something caught my gaze and I drew up sharply. His heartstone!

It was no longer black. Instead it was a pulsing blue.

But the color was flickering.

I reached out and touched the stone. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either.