The mansion loomed ahead, dark and silent, though the driveway lights flickered on as they approached. Elias and a team of medics were already waiting, their faces tense as they spotted the bloodied back seat.
Dante eased the car to a stop. "Here," he called, voice tight. "Careful—he's not… fully conscious."
Leah's hand never left Izana's hair. His head rested against her lap, and she adjusted the angle gently as if he were a child again, though her chest tightened at how frail he looked. His white blindfold was now damp at the edges with sweat and streaked with blood.
The medics approached cautiously, eyes wide. They knew Izana didn't like physical contact, except from Leah. But he hadn't flinched once while she had guided him into this position.
"Whoa," one murmured, studying his slumped form. "He's… letting her hold him?"
"Focus," Dante snapped, though worry was etched into his jaw. "Get him onto the stretcher, now."
The medics nodded and moved carefully. One slid under Izana's shoulders, another under his legs, and a third steadied the torso. Leah's hand lingered on his hair, giving him the smallest bit of comfort before they gently lifted him.
Izana groaned, low and pained, every movement pressing against the fractured ribs.
"Ah… damn it—!" he muttered weakly, barely conscious, voice hoarse.
Leah tightened her grip on the seat beside him. "I'm right here, Izana. It's okay."
He didn't respond, only let out another strained groan as the medics shifted him. The moment his head left her lap, her hand instinctively reached toward him, but she stopped herself, letting the professionals do their work.
"Careful!" Dante's voice was sharp. "Don't jostle him. We can't afford more blood loss."
The medics moved him slowly, his body surprisingly compliant for someone in such pain. He whimpered softly, a sound that made Leah's heart clench.
"You're okay," she murmured, brushing her fingers lightly against his shoulder as the medics carried him. "You're almost at safety. Almost."
Izana's hands twitched slightly, but he didn't grab hers. His breathing was ragged, shallow, almost imperceptible, and every so often a quiet curse escaped his lips.
Finally, they laid him on the stretcher. The medics worked quickly to secure him and check his vitals. Blood had seeped through the bandages, and his pale skin was marred by bruising.
Dante's gaze was sharp. "He's losing too much. Surgery is needed immediately."
Elias's voice was calm but urgent. "Dante, Leah… tell me exactly what happened."
Leah swallowed hard, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her mind raced through the last hours: the warehouse darkness, the memory of Izana screaming, the bleeding, and how fragile he had been resting against her lap. "It was the warehouse. The curse trapped us… separated us. He got hurt while trying to get back to me. He—he's lost a lot of blood. Broken ribs, multiple cuts…"
Dante added, his tone clipped. "It was bad, Elias. He almost didn't make it back. We had to stabilize him in the car before we could move him safely."
Elias nodded slowly, his sharp eyes softening slightly at Leah's worry. "He's in good hands now," he said, voice low but firm. "Follow me; the doctor is ready."
The medics wheeled Izana swiftly but gently into the mansion, and Leah fell in step beside the stretcher, never letting go of his hand lightly resting on top of the blanket. His grip was weak, barely conscious, but it was enough to anchor her panic.
As they moved through the corridor, Leah's thoughts churned violently. He's always so strong. Always so unshakable. And now… now he looks like he's barely hanging on. I can't lose him—not after everything. I can't… She swallowed hard, trying not to let her panic show.
The doctor spoke briefly as they entered the medical room. "We'll take him into surgery. You should wait here."
Leah nodded, throat tight. "I just… I need to stay close."
The doctor offered a small, sympathetic nod. "You can be nearby, but he'll be in a sterile environment. We'll handle him carefully."
They led her to a chair just outside the operating area. Dante and Elias lingered briefly, sharing a quiet glance before leaving to give her privacy.
Hours passed. Each tick of the clock dragged, Leah's fingers drumming lightly on the armrest, never straying from the faint warmth left by his hand on hers. Her mind replayed the car ride: the soft weight of his head on her lap, his shallow breaths, the quiet moans of pain she had tried to soothe with nothing but her presence.
How fragile he is. How much pain he must be in. And yet… even now, he trusts me enough to let me be near him. He trusts me. The thought both comforted and terrified her. She couldn't imagine life without him.
Then, at last, the double doors opened, and a medic rolled Izana in on a bed. He was pale, still unconscious, the white blindfold replaced by clean cloth over his wounds. Tubes and monitors ran from him, but the steady beep of the heart monitor gave Leah the smallest relief.
Leah rose quickly, moving to his side. She pulled a chair close, lowering herself so her hand could reach his. She gently took his hand in hers, careful not to disturb the bandages or lines. His fingers twitched slightly at her touch.
"He's asleep," one of the medics whispered, noticing the relief in Leah's eyes.
Leah didn't speak. She just kept her hand lightly on his, tracing the back of his fingers with her thumb. His chest rose and fell slowly, and the faint warmth of his hand reassured her that he was still here—still alive.
I can't believe this is him. The man I love… reduced to this. Her voice caught in her throat, but she whispered anyway. "I'm here. You're safe now."
A small, involuntary groan escaped from him, his lips parting slightly in his unconscious state, and Leah felt a tear prick her eye. She pressed a finger lightly against his hand, holding it steady.
"You scared me," she whispered. "You can't leave me like that. Not ever."
His hand twitched again, and Leah felt a strange, comforting warmth as if he were aware of her presence even in sleep. She brushed a strand of black hair back from his forehead, careful of the bandages and tubes.
"I'm not leaving you," she said again, more firmly this time. "You hear me? You stay right here. I'm not going anywhere."
The steady beep of the heart monitor and the soft hum of the medical equipment became a rhythm she could cling to. Hours had felt like days, but now she could just be near him, her hand keeping his in hers, waiting for the moment he would finally wake.
Her thoughts wandered, even as she tried to stay calm. I wish I could tell him… tell him everything I feel. But not now. Not while he's like this. He needs to rest. He needs to live. Then… maybe then…
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her cheek close to his hair. "Stay with me, Izana. Please."
The faint warmth of his fingers against her thumb gave her hope. He was still here. He was still fighting. And that was enough for now.