Clarissa
“T ry to sit her up. We can move her to a different room,” Theo says.
“What if she wakes up and gets sick again?” Toshi asks.
“Here. I’ll carry her,” Sebastian says.
“No,” I say with a groan.
“You’ve been on this couch for two days,” Vlad says. “You need to be in a bed recuperating. This door swinging open and pummeling cold air your way isn’t helping things.”
“I’m not sure what you guys think of me, but I can handle this on my own,” I say.
“You’ve been sick. There’s nothing wrong—”
“Sebastian, I’m not going to say it again. Leave me alone on this couch. I survived a plane crash, conquered my fear of Africa, weathered the violent death of my husband, and managed to keep myself from reeling at the fact that he’s now alive. I’m staring down the barrel of war with a Council I want to rip to shreds, and I’m still finding time to stop you guys from ripping one another’s throats out because of cabin fever. I can take care of myself.”
My eyes flash up to them, and they all back away. I settle back down onto the couch, hoping to fuck they will leave me alone. I’m tired of their arguing. Of their bickering. Of them thinking they can continuously control me and make me some damsel in distress. I’m over it. I’m over their protection. I don’t need them standing in front of me.
I need them standing beside me.
My eyes flutter closed as they all walk off. Vlad is murmuring to himself, and I let out a low growl to shut him up. I don’t know how long I’m asleep for, but eventually, I stir on the couch as my stomach begins to roll again. For the past few days, I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve been tired. I haven’t been hungry. Smells I once enjoyed are now making me sick. I turn over onto my side and take deep breaths as I try to stave off the nausea. It’s the last thing I want to do. There isn’t another sensation on the planet I hate more than vomiting. I would rather burn at a thousand stakes than throw up even once.
But it doesn't work.
“It’s okay. Come here. You’re fine.”
I hear Josie’s voice as I throw my face over the edge of the couch.
“Let it all out,” she says.
I can feel her stroking my hair, and it sends electrical impulses throughout my body. Calming my raging stomach and stopping my sickness in its tracks. I press deeper into her hand, and she giggles then moves the bucket away from my face.
“Here, take this. Wipe your face.”
I relieve her of the cool washcloth and clean my face off.
“Aren’t you supposed to be training or something?” I ask.
“I pulled myself away for a little while. Joel’s taken over the fighting for now.”
“How’s it looking?”
“We’ve got twenty thousand fighters ready and willing, but they need some refining. I’m good with the basics, but Joel’s better with refining skills. I’m more o
f a defensive fighter, and he’s better offensive.”
“Then it sounds like the trade-off was a good thing,” I say.
I finish wiping off my face before I settle back down onto the couch. Her hand keeps stroking my hair, and it feels so wonderful. I nuzzle into her touch again and curl up on my side as my eyes begin to drift closed. I can feel sleep trying to take me under again. I can feel my body relaxing and attempting to find its point of darkness.
But Josie’s voice pulls me from it.
“Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Is it possible you could be pregnant?”