Page 44 of Martyr
At my entrance, Lyssa turns to look at me. Her hazel eyes meet mine, and she offers a slow, inching smile. “Artemis.”
I’m not proud of this—but between the vodka from last night, which may or may not still be in my blood, and nowthis?
I pass out.
Something cool touches my forehead.“She’s coming around.”
“…bumped her head.”
“Probably should’ve foreseen…”
It seems to take forever for my hearing to even out. I blink up at the ceiling and the orderly hovering around me.
“Welcome back,” he says.
I make a face and push up on my forearms.
“Easy does it.” He grasps my shoulder.
“I’m good.” I sit up, touching the back of my head. “That was embarrassing.”
No one stops me from getting to my feet. I focus on Lyssa, half expecting her to be asleep like every other time. Butnope, she’s fucking awake. Sitting in a reclined bed position, pillows stacked behind her. Her body is probably weak, but her gaze is sharp enough to cut.
“Can we have a minute?” Lyssa asks.
The doctor and orderly both eye me. The orderly drags out a chair and motions for me to sit, then says something about getting juice for low blood sugar.
I take a seat and lean back in it. My skin is clammy, and I rub my palms down my thighs.
“Doc was just filling me in on…” She motions around the room. Her fingers are curled in, and the movement is jerky. She doesn’t lift most of her arm. “The time wasted.”
“A decade.”
She sighs. “This room is…”
I try to see it for the first time. From her perspective. The last time she was conscious, she was trapped in Terror.
And now we’re all trapped on this island.
“Excessive,” she lands on. “They said I was back on Isle of Paradise.”
Her gaze drifts to the window.
She seems a lot more poised than I would’ve thought. My head throbs, and I shift to rest my chin on my hand. Elbow on the arm of the chair.
Gabriel was always obsessed with Lyssa having a room with a view.
“So. How do you feel?”
She laughs under her breath. “Honestly? I’m tired.”
Kade is going to freak the fuck out.
“Talking is exhausting. My eyes open…”
That’s my cue, then. I push out of the chair and smile at her. The conflicting emotions inside me are too much. I’m happy for her. That she’s awake. Completely confused about why she opened her eyes now—and what kept her unconscious for so long.
“I’ll let you get some rest before your doctors come back.” I put the chair between us, walking backward. If I look away, she might disappear.
