Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 298

Chapter 298

Drake

Within minutes, they had Elsa on a gurney. Her face was alarmingly red, her breathing shallow and rapid. The doctor with shrewd eyes, checked her temperature and frowned, his expression grim.

*104 degrees,’ he announced, turning accusatory eyes on me. “As her boyfriend, you should have brought her in sooner. This level of fever is fucking dangerous. She could have had seizures or worse.”

I didn’t bother correcting his assumption about our relationship. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I fought the urge to grab him by his white coat. “Just help her,’ I demanded, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl.

The doctor ordered intravenous fluids and fever reducers, explaining that Elsa would need to stay overnight for observation. “She’s severely dehydrated and malnourished,” he added, glancing at her chart. “Has she been eating properly? Her weight.is down’ significantly from her last visit.”

I didn’t have an answer, the realization hitting me like a physical blow to the chest. I should have known if she was taking care of herself.

After they settled Elsa in a private room, I took the chair beside her bed, my body tense with a mixture of worry and self-directed anger. Her hand felt small and burning hot in mine, fragile in a way that made my throat tighten uncomfortably.

I studied her face, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the way her cheekbones seemed more prominent than I remembered. She’d lost too much

weight, her body consuming itself while I’d been too caught up in my own bullshit to notice.

“Stubborn, hardheaded omega,” I murmured, brushing a strand of damp hair from her forehead, my touch gentler than I thought myself capable of “Always

trying to carry everything alone like you’ve got something to prove.”

Even unconscious, Elsa maintained that air of fierce independence that had both infuriated and fascinated me from the beginning. Ten years, and she still refused to lean on anyone-especially me. Not that I’d given her much fucking reason to.

I traced the line of her knuckles with my thumb, a possessive gesture I couldn’t help. “Allen’s gone, and you’re this heartbroken?” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, jealousy coiling in my gut like a poisonous snake. “What did that weak excuse for a wolf offer you that I couldn’t?”

Respect, probably. Understanding. Things I’d never bothered to give her, too caught up in my own need to dominate and possess.

Hours passed, and I remained by her side, ignoring the calls and messages piling up on my phone. The nursing staff came and went, checking Elsa & vitals and adjusting her IV, giving me wary glances but not daring to suggest I leave.

As night fell, Elsa began to stir restlessly, her body twisting in the sheets. Her fingers clutched at nothing, small whumpers escaping her throat. Her tips moved, forming silent words I couldn’t make out. Then, so quietly I nearly missed it: “Please let me go,

Tears leaked from the corners of her closed eyes, tailing down her temples and into her hair. I wiped them away with my thumb, wametung (wis painfully in my chest like a knife being slowly turned

When the final IV bag emptied i made a decision. Moving carefully, I stid onto the narrow hospital bed beside her, paling ber geully against me. She fil perfectly in the curve of my body, as he always had, her back pressed to my chest, he scout even utteral in fever calling to seething pr

I rested my hand on tur stabuser feeling the now and tall of her bigulung, any frogers warns extensively cross the place were a giht bed ence

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Elsa

9:11 am pp

Chapter 298.

Twoke to the sterile smell of hospital disinfectant and the steady beep of monitors, my body feeling like it had been run over by a truck. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my throat raw and painful when I swallowed, like I’d been gargling with broken glass. Sunlight streamed through partially closed blinds, casting striped shadows across the empty chair beside my bed.

Empty. Of course it was fucking empty.

I pushed myself up against the pillows, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles and the dull throb behind my eyes. The room was quiet except for the occasional announcement over the hospital intercom and the muffled voices from the hallway.

Through the thin walls, I could hear someone in the next room-a husband talking softly to his wife, promising to bring her favorite books from home, his voice so tender it made my teeth ache.

The intimacy in his voice made my chest constrict painfully. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, shivering despite the warmth, and caught a familiar scent that made my breath catch in my throat. Drake had been here. His scent clung to the sheets-cedarwood and something darker, uniquely him, marking the space as if he owned it.

I tried to piece together what had happened, sorting through fragmented memories with growing frustration. I remembered visiting my mother, remembered

feeling increasingly unwell as I left the hospital, my skin too hot and my head spinning.

There had been a collision with someone, the sensation of falling, and then…Drake’s arms catching me, strong and unyielding. The memory of his touch

made my skin prickle with conflicting sensations. After that, everything blurred into a haze of fever dreams and darkness.

Had I been crying in my sleep? My cheeks felt tight with dried tears, though I couldn’t remember what I’d been dreaming about. My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach, fingers splaying across the flat surface, and for a brief, disorienting moment.

I pushed the memory away with a physical shake of my head, as I always did. Some wounds never healed; you just learned to stop looking at them, to function around the gaping hole they left in your life.

Sleep tugged at me again, but I resisted, digging my nails into my palms to stay alert. The clock on the wall showed it was just after eight in the morning. I needed to check on my mother, call work, figure out how long I’d be stuck in this goddamn sterile prison.

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