Chapter TwelveIT WAS THE EARLY hours of the morning when Cristian finally woke. Dark circles under his eyes, his skin pale in an unhealthy way, lips dry and colorless, hair sweaty and stuck to his scalp, he was the most beautiful thing in the whole world.
“You’re back,” I murmured, as I pushed my chair closer to the bed and took his hand in mine.
Cristian groaned and tried to get up.
“Take it easy.” I helped him lean against the pillows, and he settled.
“How long was I out?” he asked, his voice cracking.
I helped him drink water through a straw, expecting some kind of protest. Cristian drew long gulps of the cool liquid and moaned.
“Not that long. Less than twenty-four hours.”
He nodded, his eyes locking with mine. “I thought I was done for.”
I shuddered, remembering the bloody mes
