Page 37 of Ruthless Kings of Vengeance
"The poison affected your memory more than we initially realized, didn't it? It's not just fatigue or medication making you struggle to recognize me earlier."
The observation surprises me with its accuracy. Fragments missing that should be accessible, connections that form and dissolve with disconcerting randomness.
"I think so," I confess, the admission difficult even with him. "It's like...trying to read a book where someone's torn out random pages. Most of it's still there, but crucial details sometimes just...aren't."
Concern flickers across his features, his hand moving to cradle the back of my head with protective instinct.
"Marcus should examine you again before we leave," he says, the statement carrying no room for argument despite his gentle tone. "If there's lingering neurological damage from the poison?—"
"Leave?" I interrupt, latching onto the word with sudden intensity. "You mean go back to Leighton? So soon?"
His lips curve into a knowing smile as if he's been expecting this reaction.
"Did you think Zander was planning to keep you hidden away in this oceanside retreat forever? That the others would allow it, even if he tried?"
The question carries amusement, but beneath it lies the acknowledgment of the power struggles occurring within our circle during my recovery.
The careful dance of dominance and submission, protection and possession that defines our complicated dynamic.
"How long have I been here?" I ask, realizing suddenly that I have no clear sense of time passed since the attack in the woods.
That probably should of been the first thing I had asked. To me, I feel like I just woke up from the mayhem, but has it been less than 24 hours since I got shot and left for dead thanks to the Blinded One?
Days?
Weeks?
The uncertainty is disorienting, adding to the fragmented nature of my recent memories.
"Twelve days," Ares answers, his precision oddly comforting in the face of my confusion. "The first four were...uncertain." Something pained flickers across his expression before he continues. "The poison was designed to be untraceable, to mimic natural causes. Marcus had to essentially invent an antidote from scratch while your heart kept trying to stop. It was crazy and frantically, everything was a blur of just praying that you’d make it through. I’m not even spiritually or anything, but the few close calls had me asking the universe to leave you out of Heaven for us.”
I snicker at that one before I toss the other option.
“So you’re asking the universe to send me to hell.”
He ponders on it for a solid ten seconds before he gives the most confused frown that has me giggling.
“This version of stupidity is cute on you,” I tease with a wink, making him crown as he uses his free hand to pinch his nose.
“You know I’m not stupid,” he whines, but he knows I’m playing with him. “Lack of sleep made me preference that wrong, but the universe knows my heart.”
“Sure, sure,” I brush off, but I do agree with him.
Either way, the clinical description doesn't quite mask the emotional toll evident in the shadows lurking behind his eyes. In the way his voice catches slightly on certain words, revealing depths of fear he's trying to conceal behind factual recounting.
I’m doing my best to try and lighten the mood, knowing I’m the sole contributor to this unbalance and stress, but
"And Zander brought me here as soon as I was stable," I conclude, pieces clicking into place with increasing clarity.
Ares nods, something wry touching his expression.
"Without consulting anyone else, I might add. You were simply gone—spirited away to this private sanctuary while the rest of us were left dealing with the aftermath at Leighton."
There's no real accusation in his tone, just a statement of fact colored by lingering frustration. I can imagine how they all reacted — Matteo with cold fury, Marcus with clinical concern, Ren with unpredictable volatility. Each processing the dual shock of my near-death and subsequent disappearance in ways unique to their personalities.
"He could be thinking he’s protecting me," I say softly, understanding Zander's actions with perfect clarity despite my fragmented memories. "Making sure whoever targeted me couldn't finish the job while I was vulnerable. Besides, you know he can get…overprotective."
Just a smidge in a cynical way.
