Chapter 8

284words2026-01-19 06:01

I drifted through a kaleidoscope of dreams—nestled in my mother's arms as a child, laughing with Loki on campus, watching his face light up as he held our newborn son.

I woke to the rhythmic drip of an IV and the antiseptic smell of hospital sheets.

"Alice! Thank God you're awake!" I turned to find Loki Dalton's face hovering over mine.

Damn. Of all people to rescue me.

I tried to push myself upright, desperate to escape.

Loki seized my wrist. "Three years I've been looking for you! You vanished without a trace. Do you have any idea what that did to me? I hired investigators, contacted everyone who ever knew you—"

Too weak. Damn it.

I slumped back against the pillows, too exhausted to fight, watching his performance with detached interest.

Loki faltered, studying my face. "Alice, what happened to you? You never used to look at me with such... coldness."

The audacity of this man, speaking of the past as if he deserved any explanation.

I eyed the fruit knife on the bedside table, calculating how quickly I could reach it.

Loki rubbed his temples with a sigh. "Fine. You've clearly been through hell these past years. Now that you've learned your lesson, just behave yourself when we get home."

Curiosity sparked. "Where's your wife?" I asked.

Loki waved dismissively. "I'll handle Cynthia. Don't worry, she won't bother you."

The absurdity of the situation suddenly seemed... entertaining.

"Alright then."

Loki squeezed my hand, his smile tender. "Good girl. I'll arrange your discharge. Let's go home, Alice."

For reasons I couldn't fully articulate, the prospect of seeing the Dalton family again filled me with dark anticipation.

"Yes," I smiled faintly. "Let's go home."