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She has to become one of us.
She has to become a Vergoossen.
“M…” she muttered, bringing her hand to her head, and I straightened up. “My head.”
“Melanie?” I fixed the pillow for her. “Careful, baby.”
“Where am I?” She struggled to speak, probably still feeling groggy.
“You’re in a hospital. You’re safe.”
“In a hospital?” She could barely keep her heavy eyelids open. “Why? What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” I was slightly confused and disappointed. I was hoping I’d learn the truth about thisincidentfrom her.
“I don’t remember anything.”
“It’s okay. What matters is that you’ve woken up. I was so damn worried.” I sat on the edge of her bed, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I’ll call your doctor. He should examine you.”
She furrowed her brows, staring at me intently. “Wait… who are you?” she whispered, and my blood ran cold.
I froze. The world around me stopped turning. I looked into her eyes, terrified. Her voice kept ringing in my ears. Was it possible that she didn’t remember me? Was the concussion so bad? An overwhelming feeling of regret and angst flooded my veins.
I lost her.
She didn’t remember me. The moments we shared. The undeniable attraction pushing us toward each other like magnets. The effect she had on me. The effect I had on her. It was all gone.
I cleared my throat, trying to stay in control of my emotions. “You don’t know who I am, Melanie?”
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and my heart dropped to my stomach.
Fuck.
