187
Alaric’s POV
The fluorescent lights in the hospital room were harsh, casting a sterile, gloomy glow over everything. Emilia sat on the edge of the examination table, her fingers twisting in the hem of the hospital gown she’d reluctantly agreed to wear. She looked so small, so fragile, and it killed me.
I stood at her side, arms crossed, trying to keep my frustration in check. The doctor had just left, promising to return with results from a quick scan. I didn’t trust him—not him specifically, but the idea of anyone else taking care of her when I wasn’t in control of the situation.
“You can stop hovering now,” Emilia muttered, her voice sharp but low.
I blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not hovering.”
She shot me a look, arching a brow. “You’re practically breathing down my neck.”
