Isobel's POV
When I opened my eyes, I was dead.
I couldn't feel pain, I couldn't hear sound—everything around me was pure, blinding white. I tried to move, but my legs felt unreal. My bare feet brushed against nothing; the fog licked around my ankles like slow waves.
"Hello?" My voice didn't carry. It fell flat, as if the air refused to hold it.
I took a few tentative steps, folding my arms around myself. There was no up or down, no edge—just this endless white that tightened my chest.
Somewhere far off I thought I heard a horn, a muffled shout—like something happening underwater.
I pressed my palms to my ears, but the world only grew quieter. For a breath I thought maybe this was it. Maybe I was gone.
Then a shape appeared through the mist. When he drew closer I gasped.
"Oh…oh my God!" I blinked as if something had stung my eye.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, hands buried in his pockets. My heart stopped and then punched against my ribs. "Alexander?"
He didn't answer.
He simply stood there, the fog curling around him as if it dared not touch. My throat tightened. I started toward him, then ran, breath catching with every step.
When I reached him I crashed into his chest like I had a thousand times before. He wrapped his arms around me—steady, warm—and I started to cry without meaning to.
"Why did you leave?" My words fractured. "Why didn't you come back? You promised me, Alex. You said—"
He rested his chin on my head the way he used to. The scent of his cologne—wood and rain—still clung to him.
"Shh," he said quietly. "You never stopped waiting for me, did you?"
I shook my head. "I tried. God, I tried, but—" I looked up. His face was softened at the edges, like smoke and memory. "How are you here?"
His thumb brushed my cheek. The touch felt real. Too real. "Maybe because you called me," he said. "Maybe because you weren't ready to let go."
I wanted to ask what he meant, but something shifted.
The fog around us began to pulse. Faint sounds leaked in—the dull beeping of a monitor, hurried footsteps, a voice shouting, "She's convulsing!"
I froze. "What is that?"
Alexander's face didn't change. He tilted his head the way he always had, listening. "They're trying to bring you back."
"I don't understand."
He smiled—sad, almost painful. "You've always been stubborn. Even death can't keep you quiet."
I tried to laugh and it came out as a choked sob. "If this is death, it's cruel. Because I can feel you."
His eyes softened. "Then maybe it's life calling you."
Far away someone shouted my name, clearer now. "Isobel! Stay with us!"
"Etienne?" I whispered, confused. "He sounds like—"
Alexander took my hand. "He sounds like me."
I looked back at him. "You—"
Before I could finish, he leaned down, his forehead resting against mine. "Wake up," he murmured. "Find me again."
Then his lips touched mine.
It was gentle, but it cracked something open inside me—light spilling through my ribs, through the fog, through the memory of him. The sounds from the real world swelled—the machine's steady beeps, hurried footsteps, someone shouting for a doctor.
My fingers slipped from his as darkness rushed in, then everything expelled like a held breath. Air slammed into my lungs. I gasped, coughing, my body jerking against cold sheets.
"Easy… take it easy, don't move!"
Hands were on me—someone holding my shoulders, another checking lines and tubes. I blinked until the blur thinned.
When my vision cleared, Etienne hovered above me, his brows knitted tight. He looked exhausted, like he'd been running. His hand stayed on my wrist, thumb pressed to my pulse as if he needed proof I was there.
I stared at him. My chest climbed and fell too fast. "You—" The word scraped out.
"Don't talk," he said quickly, voice low and trembling. "You're safe. You're okay."
I wasn't okay. I was alive, yes, but there was a hollow where Alexander should be.
He let out a ragged breath, relief washing through him. "You scared the hell out of us," he muttered.
Bits of the night edged back—streets, the argument, the horn. "What happened?"
"You ran out," he said. "You were hit. Hard. Julien's outside losing his mind. I—" He stopped, his hand tightening on mine, then letting go as if embarrassed.
I frowned. "You what?"