SIXTY-FOUR

GABRIEL'S POV

The night dragged on in the hospital, each hour stretching like taffy as we paced the sterile waiting room like restless ghosts. The acrid smell of antiseptic filled the air, a constant reminder of the chaos that had unfolded. Kiera was stable, the nurse had assured us, but that word barely eased the knot in my stomach. Stable felt like a cruel joke after everything she had suffered.

Damien and I refused to leave, even though we weren’t allowed access to Kiera’s ward. I needed to be here when she awoke, to let her know that I hadn’t abandoned her. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Damien had the upper hand. He was there when she needed someone, while I was wallowing in my self-ego and jealousy.

The fluorescent lights hummed above us, casting a harsh glare that felt almost mocking. I leaned against the wall, my mind racing. What the hell was I doing here? I should have been out there, hunting down the bastards who hurt her. Instead, I was stuck in this waiting room,