Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 15: Awake

"No."

"Your Highness, please reconsider. It may save her life."

"It's out of the question."

"But she's your mate. Truly, she couldn't object. You would mark her sooner or later."

"I said it's out - "

A feral growl breaks through my haze of thoughts. A chair scrapes against the floor.

"Don't. Touch."

I wish I could turn on my side, like I like to sleep, but when I try to move my leg it is stiffened, like it is attached to a board. I open my eyes.

The first thing that I see is the muted yellow of the ceiling. I lift my head from the pillow so that I can stop looking at it. It seems like such an ill color.

My vision on the left is obscured by a sculpted back. His arm is held out, like he's protecting me from the doctor just in front of him. In the other corner of the room, a gangly man looks on with pale fascination. I'm in some sort of hospital room, fancier than any I've seen on TV.

It's too heavy. My head returns to its pillow with a soft thud. The Prince automatically responds, already kneeling beside me as I open my mouth.

Nothing comes out. My voice is entirely spent. My breath is raspy.

"Wh - wha - w - wh -" my mouth catches itself before I can finish with the thought. My throat scrapes painfully and I notice that the Prince winces.

The Prince.

The Prince.

The Prince is holding a straw to my lips and looking at me anxiously but expecting. Like this is normal.

My eyes widen. I pull my head back, wishing I could curl into my skin.

I try to sit up, which is my first mistake.  One of my arms is operating semi-normally, but the other is like jelly and folds underneath me immediately. My attempt to move forces my weight onto my hip painfully.

"Wh - you - I-I -"

Prince Orion silently props me up, tucking the pillow behind me and supporting my back as I slide backwards.

That's it. I'm hallucinating.

"Drink," he instructs, bringing the straw back within my reach. His voice sends a wave of awareness across my spine. My burning throat drives me forward and I drink the cool water too energetically. I blush as I realize how close we are, his hands an inch from my face.

I shift as far away as I can on the narrow hospital bed. As I take in my surroundings, I notice that we're suddenly alone - whoever was in the corner and the doctor silently slipped away.

"Your Highness," I rasp out in greeting. I try to keep my eyes from his face, but they keep flashing back to him with the consistency of a compass pointing north.

The Prince's eyebrows pucker in a disgusted grimace.

Like reflex, the expression sends a pang of fear through my chest. I try desperately to temper my rising heart rate, but I know he can probably hear it. Desperate to turn his mind from whatever made him angry, I quickly begin again.

"Alpha," I try, "please, what happened?"

It doesn't work. His face hardens into a curl of displeasure. The fear reiterates itself. Dad always preferred the use of his official title, at least from Mom. From his kids it would be disrespectful. If it wasn't some error in my address, what was it?