Dark Princess: Shadows (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance #89)

38. Brandon

38

brANDON

A s a flurry of activity swirled around Morelle's door, Brandon paced the waiting room, trying to stay out of the way of the medical staff and not worry too much.

Every time Bridget or Gertrude emerged, they offered brief updates about what was going on that only increased his anxiety.

Morelle wanted the tubes removed.

Morelle insisted on getting up.

Morelle was demanding independence mere hours after opening her eyes.

He ran his hands through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time. If the medical staff hadn't been wearing filtering earpieces, he would have suspected compulsion at work. But no, this had to be just Morelle's force of personality bending the formidable Bridget to her will. Somehow, she'd convinced the physician to disconnect her from everything.

It made no sense.

Bridget was not the type to cave to capricious demands. She was notorious for being unmoved by anyone's demands unless she saw merit in them. So why was she yielding to Morelle's wishes?

She couldn't possibly think that this was a good idea.

When the doctor emerged once again, Brandon intercepted Bridget before she could disappear into the restricted area where the lab and diagnostic equipment were housed. "What's going on, Bridget? Why are you agreeing to Morelle's unreasonable demands?"

One of the doctor's red eyebrows shot up. "Why would you think that they are unreasonable?"

"Because she's not ready to get out of bed on her own and have all the monitoring equipment disconnected. She just woke up." Brandon glanced toward Jasmine's room, lowering his voice so Ell-rom wouldn't hear him. "What if she has a relapse? She can't be ready when she couldn't even speak when she first woke up. Ell-rom had to help her when she wanted to touch his head because she lacked the strength to lift her arm on her own. What could have changed in the span of a few hours?"

Bridget shifted her weight, hand finding her hip in a stance he recognized as her 'teaching moment' pose. "Morelle is half goddess, and her healing ability is phenomenal. Think of your own body and what it can fix in minutes, let alone hours. Unlike Ell-rom, who woke up when he was still emaciated, she woke up after her body had finished rebuilding her organs and her muscles. At first, she was stiff and unaccustomed to moving, but she has improved rapidly. She walked to the bathroom, leaning on Gertrude, of course, but she did it without falling or needing to be carried. She also showered, with Gertrude's help, brushed her teeth, and is now resting in a fresh gown on fresh sheets." Her voice softened. "When a patient is so determined to move forward, I prefer to take a risk and let them push themselves rather than hold them back. Never underestimate the power of the spirit."

"Wow." Brandon pressed a hand to his chest, feeling genuinely chastened. "I stand corrected. How is she doing now?"

A knowing smile curved Bridget's lip. "Clinging on like the fighter she is. I took blood samples and a few measurements, so that kept her awake, but she stayed alert even after I was done. She's holding on to wakefulness by her fingernails. I'm getting her something to eat."

That was another surprise, but Brandon wasn't going to repeat his mistake and ask if it wasn't too early for Morelle to consume real food. If she was no longer being fed intravenously, she needed to get nutrients some other way.

"Can I see her now? Do you think she wants me there?" The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

"Definitely." Bridget patted his arm. "I think you are the reason she is pushing herself so hard."

That caught him off guard. "Really? What makes you think that?"

"Simple. Imagine the roles were reversed, and you were in that bed while an attractive woman was keeping you company. You are grateful and intrigued by the stranger who dedicates so much time to you, but you feel insecure and unkempt about your appearance. All your hair has fallen out, and it feels like your mouth is chewing on dirt. Wouldn't you want to get all the tubes taken out, get clean, and maybe put some cologne on before you let her see you again?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I would."

She chuckled. "I know you would. Now get in there and put on the charm."

"Yes, ma'am." He offered her a playful salute.

As Brandon approached Morelle's door, he remembered at the last moment that he should knock before entering.

"Who is it?"

Wow, her voice was so strong and confident now.

He opened the door ajar so he wouldn't have to shout. "It's me, Brandon. Can I come in?"

"Yes."

When he stepped in, he was struck by the transformation. The mechanical chorus of monitors was gone, replaced by peaceful quiet; the bed had been adjusted to a semi-reclining position, and the slightly lemony smell he had gotten accustomed to had been replaced by the clean scent of soap and laundry detergent.

Most remarkable, though, was Morelle herself. She was alert, upright, and more present than before. Her big blue eyes were clear and shining with intelligence and resolve.

"Hello, beautiful." He flashed her one of his practiced smiles, the kind that had charmed countless Hollywood executives and starlets alike. "Do you feel better now?"

Her lack of an answering smile sent a tendril of worry through him.

"Yes. Thank you," she said, sounding formal.

"Is something wrong?" He moved closer to the bed, studying her face for clues.

"I don't think so." Her eyes fixed on his mouth. "I just remembered something you said when I was still locked inside my body and couldn't respond."

The phrasing sent a chill down his spine. "What do you mean by locked inside your body?"

"I was aware for a long time," she said. "I could hear you talking and understand all the stories you told me, and I could hear the medics talking, but I couldn't understand them because they didn't have teardrops to translate what they were saying. I couldn't respond, I thought. My body did not obey my commands."

He took her hand. "I'm so sorry. It must have been terrifying."

She didn't pull her hand out of his, and he hoped it wasn't because she lacked the strength to do so, but because she enjoyed his touch.

"It was," Morelle admitted.

His mind was reeling. All those hours he'd spent talking to her, telling stories, sharing his thoughts, she'd heard everything. Every confession, every musing, she'd been present for all of it.

"But I knew I would get free," she said quietly. "I was trying so hard to break to the surface. It was exhausting, but I kept trying."

"You are so brave." He lifted her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles.

When her breath hitched, he let go of her hand. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken the liberty."

"No, it's fine. I've already given you permission to kiss my hand, remember?"

Relief washed over him, and he clasped her hand again, holding it against his chest. "How much do you remember?" he asked. "I mean, from before you gave me permission to kiss your hand."

Her eyes bored into his with an intensity that made his heart skip. "Everything, I suspect. Your voice was my anchor when I was lost in the darkness. Your stories sparked my curiosity and energized me. They gave me a reason to wake up so I could ask you all the questions I had." She looked at the teardrop hanging from his neck. "But it is not your voice I heard, though." She sounded disappointed. "It was the voice of this device."

"It provides a pretty accurate rendition," he quickly said. "Or so I am told."

Her lips lifted in a smile. "Good. I kept thinking that your voice sounded velvety, and it was disappointing to believe that I had been infatuated with a machine voice."

Infatuated?

Perhaps she meant something else, and that was how his earpieces translated it from Kra-ell?

Not sure what to do, Brandon turned off the device and said the only thing he knew how to say in Kra-ell: "Good day, Morelle." He activated the device and added, "Now you know how I really sound."

Her smile was beautiful and heartwarming. "Your voice sounded almost the same through the device, but your real voice is nicer. Is that all you know how to say in my language?"

He nodded. "I haven't lived in the village long, so I wasn't here to learn Kra-ell from those who joined our community recently."

When she just looked at him with those big eyes of hers, he realized that she had no clue what he was talking about. "What did Annani and Ell-rom tell you so far?"

"Annani told Ell-rom and me about our father. Ahn was a great leader who wanted to create a new way of life for the exiled gods and the humans who looked up to them. He wanted everyone to be treated with dignity and justice. Annani didn't tell me what happened to him, though. Could you?"

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "I don't think I should. I'd rather leave it to the Clan Mother. I have a feeling that she wants to be the one to tell you of his fate and how it came about. It's a deeply personal story. What else did she tell you?"

"She told me about her children being fathered by humans. Our father was a progressive thinker, and he allowed the gods to take human lovers. That was how the immortals came to be. She did not tell me why she chose humans to father her children, though. It was also one of the things she was saving for another time. Do you know why?"

Brandon nodded. "Of course I do, but this tale also belongs to Annani. I'm sorry that I can't be more forthcoming, but she is our Clan Mother, the head of our clan. I cannot and will not go against her wishes." He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, reverently. "Not even for a beautiful princess with the most amazing eyes."