Conaan sucked in a sharp breath, the pain in his chest shooting up and spreading everywhere. He gave a small groan, then slowly brought his hand to maneuver to his chest, his chest lightly heaving. His hand, however, touched another hand. Instead, his eyes opened slowly, the dark green behind them covered by a layer of fluid.

Eleanor was sitting right next to him in bed, her lips half parted as she tried to breathe through her tears, her hand resting almost protectively on his chest.

She leaned forward as he turned to her, her hand that was on his chest reaching for his hand instead, and she pulled it...