Series: Charmaine Pauls
Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I'm pretty sure it's going to end badly, but then a darkly gorgeous, terrifying man steps through a portal and dissolves the lizard dudes where they stand before carrying me away.
Apparently, he's a prince with scary superpowers… and I'm his fated mate.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter 1
Elsie
“Ms. Barnikoff… I’m terribly sorry to tell you this, but your heart is failing.”
“Uh-huh.” I return my attention to my laptop, on which my Greek Lit paper is taunting me with its awkwardly worded third sentence. “Go on.”
Dr. Moore clears his throat. “Ms. Barnikoff—Elisa—I’m not sure if you heard me—”
“Call me Elsie, please.”
I correct the sentence and look up in time to see the doctor throw a confused glance at my mom, who’s quietly wiping away tears in the corner. My dad, standing next to her, is stoic as always, but even he looks paler and stiffer than usual, which is already pretty pale and stiff.
I sigh and close my laptop, giving my full attention to the doctor—a slim, youngish man who looks like he’s desperately wishing he were anywhere but in this hospital room in Cleveland, delivering this news to us.
I feel bad for him. Almost as bad as I feel for my parents. Which is why I paste a smile on my face and say, “It’s okay. Just give it to me straight. Am I dying?”
He nods grimly. “Unfortunately, due to your medical history, you’re not a candidate for a transplant.”
That’s nothing I didn’t already know. “How long do I have?”
He winces. “Weeks. Possibly days.”
Mom lets out a sniffle, and Dad wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer.
“Gotcha,” I say and open my laptop. “I’d better hurry and get this paper done then. It’s due in two weeks.”
Dr. Moore looks like a guppy as he opens his mouth and closes it several times. “Ms. Barnikoff—Elsie—I’m not sure if you—”
“Oh, no, I get it, really. I just have work to do, that’s all.” I turn my attention to the screen in front of me, ignoring the erratic rhythm of the dying organ in my chest and the fatigue threatening to fog up my brain.
There’s a long minute of silence, during which I correct another sentence in my paper while Mom sniffles some more. Finally, Dr. Moore says in a strained voice, “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you three to talk it over.”
“Thank you! You were very helpful,” I call after him as he exits the room, closing the door behind him.
It’s important to be gentle with doctors. They suffer greatly when delivering bad news.
Mom’s sniffles grow louder as she approaches my hospital bed. She perches on the edge and reaches for my computer. “Elsie…” Her blue eyes are red-rimmed and swollen. “Darling, why don’t you let me take that and—”
“No.” I snap the computer closed again and stuff it under my blanket. The slender laptop weighs a pound and a half at most, yet moving it tires me out—yet another sign that Dr. Moore isn’t lying. Not that I have any reason to think he is.
Between the never-ending cough, the dizziness, the nausea, the heart palpitations, and the swollen legs, I have all the symptoms of heart failure, and I’ve known it for a while, which is why I resisted coming to the hospital for so long.
“Darling, please…” Mom lays her hand over the blanket covering my laptop. “I know how dedicated you are to your studies, but that’s not what’s important right now. You should—”
“What, travel? See the world? Eat all the food that makes me vomit?” My tone is sharper than I intend, but I can’t help it.
My parents have been on a mission to make me “live” ever since this all started, a.k.a. since I was in diapers. If they’d had their way, I wouldn’t have attended school or done anything other than frantically grasp at experiences that are, at best, uncomfortable and, at worst, fucking agonizing for someone with my physical limitations. They can’t seem to comprehend the fact that my body does not want me to have fun or enjoy life in any way, shape, or form. My best bet at a semblance of happiness is escaping into my mind, which is exactly what I do when I focus on my studies.
I may only have a few days left on this earth, but I’ll be damned if I spend them moping about my fate and gazing at the sunset or whatever. I have a fucking paper to finish.
Mom must realize she’s not going to win this fight, so she sniffles a bit more, kisses my forehead, and stands up. “Okay, darling, whatever you want.”
“You are the strongest girl we know,” Dad says gruffly, coming to stand next to Mom. “If there’s anything you need—”
“I’ll be fine tonight.” I cough and pull out my laptop from under the blanket, doing my best not to show how much effort the movement entails. “Thank you, guys. I love you.”
“We love you too,” Mom says, wiping at her wet face. “So, so much. We’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay,” I say and blow them an air kiss. “Bye.”