Selene’s P.O.V
I sat on the edge of the bed, legs curled under me, trying to steady my breathing.
The doctor had arrived an hour ago—an older woman with kind eyes and a firm mouth. She hadn’t asked many questions, just took a few samples, asked about my symptoms, and examined me quietly while Dante stood by the window, arms crossed like a shadow. His presence was both comforting and suffocating, like the weight of his gaze could reach through the thick air in the room and wrap around my chest, constricting every breath I tried to take.
Now, she was back, standing in front of us with a clipboard in hand and a knowing smile tugging at her lips. Her calmness seemed to contrast sharply with the storm I felt raging inside me, each moment stretching out like hours.
My heart wouldn’t stop rac
