Page 47 of The Immortal’s Mark

My eyes snap open to a familiar ceiling. I’m in my guest bedroom.

Air rushes in, ragged. I lift a shaky arm. It immediately falls to my stomach.

I can move. Relief hits so fast my eyes sting. I can breathe.

I’m okay.

“Thank the Creator,” an accented voice murmurs, warm, steady. I turn my head and meet almond-shaped dark eyes.

“Eshe,” I croak, my throat feels like sandpaper.

“Shhh. Don’t talk yet.” She slides an arm behind my shoulders and lifts, a practiced motion.

I flinch, anticipating a fresh wave of agony from the contact, but there is none.

She tucks two pillows beneath my head, then reaches an arm toward the nightstand, returning with water.

The glass, slick with condensation, tries to slip from my grasp as I take it with both hands. My weak arms tremble as I bring the rim to my mouth.

“Hold on,” Eshe says, already moving to a silver cart tucked against the wall by the bedroom door. She returns with a green-striped bendy straw.

She pops it into the water. “Try that.”

I quirk an eyebrow but obey, and the first cool pull of water feels like heaven.

I drain more than half of the glass before finally asking, “Bendy straws?”

The corner of her mouth curves. “Des thought you might need it.”

His name unlocks the sorrowful vision I witnessed.

“H-how is he?” I choke out before taking another soothing sip.

“He will be better once he knows you’re awake.”

I lift a brow.

She only adjusts the blanket tucked at my waist.

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Probably with Lome or Alexander. They’ve been trying to keep him occupied.” She takes the glass from my hands and sets it aside. “He visits you at night. When no one is around to notice.”

Because he doesn’t want anyone to know he cares.

I’m both touched and hurt by the realization.

I swallow. “How long have I been out?”

Her lips press into a tight line. “Five days.”

“What?” I gasp.

My eyes drop to my weakened arms and covered legs, like they can answer for the missing time.

No wonder everything feels hollowed out, weak. My limbs have the strength of cooked noodles.

Eshe clears her throat. “You had an IV for hydration, but it was removed this morning when you began to stir.”