C32 White lilies
SYDNEY
The sharp scent of antiseptic clawed at my senses the moment I surfaced from the fog of sleep. My ribs ached when I shifted, my forehead throbbed with every pulse, and my throat felt dry as sandpaper.
When I cracked my eyes open, I was greeted by the blinding glare of fluorescent lights. Hospital. Wonderful.
Paige sat at the edge of my bed, her fingers clenched around her phone like it was a lifeline. The second she noticed me stirring, relief flooded her face.
“Sydney?” she whispered, almost afraid to speak too loud.
I gave a groggy groan. “If this is heaven, it looks depressing.”
Her lips trembled into a laugh, but her eyes were wet. “You’re awake. Thank God. You scared me so badly—I thought—” Her voice broke, and she pressed my hand between hers.
“What happened?” I rasped, though fragments of memory trickled back—headlights, brakes screeching, the world spinning.
“Accident,” she said. “Car swerved into you. Concussion, bruised ribs, stitches on your forehead. You’ll live, but you gave everyone a heart attack.”
“Everyone?” I blinked, wary.
Her phone buzzed just then. Paige glanced at it, then back at me with hesitation.
“What?” I pressed.
She licked her lips nervously. “Alaric’s here.”
My heart gave a traitorous leap, though I masked it with a weak scoff. “What, did he come to complain that I’m bleeding too loud?”
Paige ignored my sarcasm, squeezed my hand, and slipped out of the room.
---
ALARIC
Hospitals had always suffocated me. Too many memories. Too much death.
But the sight of Sydney in that hospital bed was worse than all of it.
Her skin was pale, a small cut stitched across her temple, an IV taped to her wrist. She looked… fragile. Something I had never associated with her before.
I hated it.
I stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind me. She turned her head, her eyes locking on mine. Despite the weariness in her face, she smirked.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite tormentor. You didn’t waste time, did you? Came to kick me while I’m down?”
I ignored the jab and walked closer, my gaze scanning every bandage, every bruise.
“You could’ve died,” I said flatly.
Her smirk faltered. “Well, I didn’t. Sorry to disappoint.”
The bitterness in her voice tightened something in my chest.
“Do you have any idea how reckless you are?” I demanded, my tone sharper than I intended. “Do you even care what you put people through?”
She pushed herself up slightly, wincing but glaring at me all the same. “Oh please. Don’t pretend you care, Alaric. You’ve made it crystal clear I’m nothing but a nuisance to you. So why are you here?”
Because the thought of you broken, gone, gutted me in ways I can’t explain. Because I can’t stop caring, no matter how much I tell myself I shouldn’t.
But I couldn’t say that.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. “I came because Paige asked me to check in.”
Her laugh was sharp, broken. “Right. Of course. How could I forget? Mr. Iceberg doesn’t melt for anyone.”
The heat between us rose, a tension neither of us could diffuse. She was angry, hurting, vulnerable, and yet still challenging me, still pushing at my walls.
And damn it, I wanted to let them crumble.
---
She stared at me for a long moment, her chest rising unevenly. Then her voice softened, trembling despite her effort to keep it steady.
“Why do you keep pushing me away, Alaric? If I’m so annoying, why do you even bother? Why didn’t you just let me lose my stupid bet and move on with your perfect little cursed life?”
The word cursed sent a jolt down my spine. My eyes narrowed. “What did you just say?”
She blinked, confused. “What? I was just—”
But I knew she hadn’t meant anything by it. Still, the coincidence rattled me.
I leaned down, bracing my hands on either side of her bed. Her eyes widened as my face hovered inches from hers.
“Careful what you say, Sydney,” I murmured. My voice was rough, dangerous.
Her lips parted, her breath warm against mine. The tension snapped taut between us, vibrating like a live wire.
“If you’re going to kiss me,” she whispered, her tone both daring and trembling, “then stop overthinking and do it.”
My jaw clenched. Every instinct screamed at me to pull back, to shut this down before it consumed me. But for the first time in years, I didn’t want to stop.
I lowered my head, our noses almost brushing. Her fingers—weak, bandaged—rose to clutch at my shirt, tugging me closer.
One inch more. Just one.
---
The door banged open.
“I heard the news, Sydney. How are you feeling?,” a voice drawled.
I froze. Sydney’s eyes widened.
Andy.
He strolled into the room with that infuriatingly calm smile, carrying a bouquet of white lilies. His gaze flicked from me to Sydney, and the corners of his mouth twitched like he’d just caught us in the middle of something forbidden.
“Well, well,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”
I straightened instantly, the tension snapping back into a mask of cold control. “You are,” I said flatly.
Sydney shifted against the pillows, biting her lip, torn between irritation and relief. “Andy,” she croaked, “you didn’t have to—”
“Of course I did,” he cut in, placing the flowers on her bedside table. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t check on the woman I care about?”
His words were deliberate, his gaze locked on me when he said them.
Something in my gut twisted. His aura pressed against me again, dark, strange, wrong.
And then he leaned casually against the bed rail, giving me a smile too polished to be innocent. “Though I must admit, Alaric, I didn’t expect to find you here. You don’t strike me as the… nurturing type.”
The remark was laced with venom, a cryptic challenge I couldn’t ignore. My suspicion deepened, sharp as a blade.
“Some of us don’t need to make a performance out of caring,” I shot back.
His smile widened, as though he knew exactly which button to press. “Touché.”
---
Sydney glanced between us, frustration flashing in her eyes. “Seriously? I just survived an accident and you two want to measure egos over my hospital bed?”
But neither of us looked away.
Because I knew in that moment that Andy wasn’t just another man circling her. He knew too much. He was hiding something. And every instinct in me screamed that he was dangerous.
I would find out what.
Even if it killed me.
---
