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I want you, too.
“Irissa–”
My name is the last thing I hear before I succumb to unconsciousness.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Irissa
I’m not dead.
At least I’m fairly certain I’m not.
The steady flow of air in and out through my nose is a reassuring sign, and as I try to wiggle life into my toes, I realize I can feel them. Another good sign.
And if I’m not dead, that means Lizette was able to get to us in time with the antidote.
It worked. The antidote worked.
“Nor,” I croak out, my throat burning. I try to open my eyes, but my lids won’t budge. Panic makes my pulse spike, and I fight to move my limbs. It’s difficult and takes every bit of the little energy I have to reach out for him. My fingers brush something soft and my heart leaps, only to dip a second later when I realize it’s a blanket. I’m no longer on the corridor floor.
Fear mounting, I call for him again. “Nor!”
It’s Lizette’s voice that answers. “He’s okay, Irissa. Nor’s okay.”
I pry my eyes open, ignoring the burn as they adjust to the light, and blink until my vision clears. Lizette is leaning over me, her eyes puffy as she dabs a cold rag to my forehead. The ceiling above us in unfamiliar, and I can’t see anything else that might indicate where I am.
“Where is he?”
“Across the hall,” she assures me. “You’re in the infirmary. How do you feel?”
“Tired.” I’ve never felt so weak in my life. Every breath, word, and movement is a struggle, and if I wasn’t so relieved to be alive, I might let myself go back to sleep. I want to drink in every second of consciousness I can. “How long was I out?”
“Only a day.”
My jaw drops. “A day?”
“Here,” she says, moving out of view briefly before returning with a water goblet. “Drink this elixir to get your energy up.”
I gladly accept the floral-smelling drink, letting Lizette lift my head slightly as I drink. I swallow, grimacing at the bitter taste.
“I know it’s not the best, but it’ll help,” she says with a grimace as she places the goblet back on the table. She takes a seat in a chair next to my bed and folds her hand on the edge of the mattress.
I turn my head to look at her, wondering how I’ll ever repay her for what’s she done for me. The only reason I’m still breathing is because of her. As if I didn’t already owe her for everything she’s ever done for me, now she’s saved my life. Anything I could do or say to her seems incredibly trivial in comparison, but I decide to try.
“Thank you, Liz,” I say, staring at her in awe. “You saved me. You saved us all. I can never thank you enough, but you’re a hero. You know that, right?”
A soft smile curls her lips, and she shakes her head gently.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just grateful that I made it to you in time,” she says, her eyes misting over. “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.” Her voice cracks and her bottom lip quivers.
“Oh no, don’t cry.” I hadn’t meant to upset her. I grab her hand and squeeze it. “I’m okay. Everyone is okay.”
A sob shakes her chest, and she covers her mouth with trembling fingers. She closes her eyes tightly, squeezing tears from the corners that spill down her cheeks.
“Liz,” I coo, dragging myself up off the mattress despite my protesting muscles. I swing my legs off the side of the bed and sit eye level with her. “What’s wrong?”
She tries to catch her breath, taking deep breaths that shake when she inhales. “There wasn’t enough.”
