Chapter 7
“Beep… beep… beep…”
The sound of medical monitors slowly pulled Clarisse back to consciousness.
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As her eyes fluttered open slowly, she heard Grace’s tearful voice coming from the next hospital bed.
“It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have argued with Clarisse in the street… I only wanted to drive her home… Leopold, why did you save me
first? If Clarisse finds out, she’ll be so upset…”
Leopold murmured, wiping away her tears. “It wasn’t your fault.”
His voice was so gentle, and it was a tone Clarisse had never once heard from him.
“If I had to do it again, I’d still save you first,” he said quietly. “Your body’s too fragile, you can’t afford another injury.”
Then, after a pause, he added, “Besides, she has no reason to be upset.”
A sudden, unbearable tightness seized Clarisse’s chest, as if an invisible hand had reached into her ribcage and twisted her heart hard.
Of course. Who was she to Leopold, anyway? What right did she have to be angry? Who he saved or didn’t, it was entirely his choice.
“Don’t cry anymore. Go home and rest,” he coaxed gently.
He whispered soothing words to Grace for quite some time before she finally left.
Once the ward door closed, Leopold turned back and realized Clarisse had long since woken up, quietly watching him.
He showed no sign of guilt. His expression was calm as ever.
“You only suffered some surface injuries,” he said, his voice level. “But I know how much you care about your looks, and how afraid of
pain you are. So I brought in the best medical team. You won’t have any scars.‘
If this had been before, Clarisse would’ve screamed at him, thrown a tantrum, and demanded to know why he’d saved Grace first.
But now, she just nodded and replied calmly, “Got it. Thanks. I’ll pay you back for the medical bills in two weeks.”
Leopold’s brow twitched slightly, as if surprised by her sudden civility.
And he couldn’t understand why she kept bringing “two weeks” up again and again?
But he didn’t ask further, simply assuming Miss Clarisse was having one of her moods and being sarcastic as usual.
For the next few days, Leopold, surprisingly, pushed all his pack duties aside and stayed at the hospital to look after her.
But strangely enough, Clarisse no longer clung to him or acted out like she used to.
She quietly received her treatments, ate her meals, and slept without fuss. It was so quiet, in fact, that it left a suffocating silence in the
room.
“Are you still angry?” he finally asked one day, sitting beside her as she got an IV.
“What do you think I’m angry about?”
“You’re angry that I didn’t save you that day.” He paused for a moment. “It made sense that I saved Grace first. She and I…”
Before he could finish the sentence, a commotion erupted in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” A young nurse hurried past the door.
“I heard it’s the Eboncrest Pack Alpha’s stepdaughter, she fell down a flight of stairs,” another nurse whispered. “She just got rushed to emergency. Alpha Vexley’s face turned pale with worry as he personally carried her inside. Honestly, treating a stepdaughter that well–he really is a rare good man…”
Chapter 7
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Clarisse looked up at Leopold, just in time to see his expression shift as she expected.
“I have something to take care of,” he said, standing abruptly, far more hurried than usual. “I’ll come back later.”
She watched him leave hurriedly without a second glance. She didn’t have to ask, and she already knew where he was going.
She closed her eyes wearily, feeling as if her heart had been hollowed out.
The next time she woke, it was to a nurse’s scolding voice.
“Why isn’t anyone watching her? The IV’s backflowed. It was almost a serious accident!” the nurse exclaimed anxiously.
Clarisse lifted her hand slightly and saw that the back of it was swollen. She grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. She found seven hours had passed.
But Leopold still hadn’t returned.
“Miss, where’s your handsome mate?” As the nurse changed her dressing, she smiled and asked casually, “You really shouldn’t be left alone during an IV. Things got pretty dangerous just now.”
Clarisse gave a faint smile, “He’s not my mate.”
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