Nightswan

Chapter 39

Alessio woke up in a hospital bed.  His side hurt, and his head felt like it was floating away from his body.  The TV was on, but the volume was so soft he couldn't tell what was being said.  His eyes fluttered open, taking in his sterile white surroundings.  Everything was orderly and pristine on the left side of the room.  On the right, though—the window side—there was someone curled up in a ball in the chair.  Dark hair covered her face, but he would know Vasilisa anywhere.  She was sound asleep, holding her legs close to her body as if she were protecting herself from assault.

Had Alpha—Mallory—done anything to her?

Mallory had been good.  Alessio had never suspected him.  Probably would never have suspected him if Alessio hadn't seen Mallory shoot him.  He thought Mallory was a good man.  He had a heart for the refugees they came across in Afghanistan, spoke of the ones he'd heard about in Syria.  How much he wanted to help them escape the battlefields.  Alessio had believed him.  Alessio had always thought himself a good judge of character; how could he have been so wrong?

He thought he knew Mallory.

Alessio didn't understand, but he didn't think he wanted to.  He was alive.  In pain, stuck in a hospital bed, but alive...with a handcuff on his wrist.  Alessio pulled at it and grunted in frustration, the metal jangling as he tried to dislodge it from the handrail.

The sounds woke up Vasilisa.  Her blue eyes looked first at his wrist then at him.  In an instant, she was uncurled from her ball and was at his side.  She clutched his handcuffed hand tightly in hers while the other one ran through his hair.

He didn't think he'd felt something so wonderful in his entire life.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi yourself," she said.

Alessio didn't know what else to say, so he just looked up at her.  She was the most beautiful person in all the earth, and he loved her.  Surely in her life he wasn't the only one to love her; he was just the one lucky enough to be called her husband.

Her lips touched his forehead.

He was wrong.  That was the most wonderful thing he'd felt in his entire life.

"The doctors had to remove your spleen," she said, keeping her hand on his forehead.  "It was unsalvageable with the bullet going through it."

"Don't think I'll miss it much." He smiled weakly.

Vasilisa moved away from him to dig around in a clear plastic bag.  Even though there wasn't much inside of it, Alessio still couldn't see for what Vasi searched until she pulled it out and held it up in front of him.

Her mother's locket.

"They found this on you when they rushed you into the ER."

Alessio nodded.

"Were you wearing it the other day?"

He nodded again.

"Mama protected you," she mumbled.

"I suppose she did."

Both of them went quiet for a few moments before Alessio broke it. "Why am I handcuffed?"

"The police found out who you were." Vasi frowned.  Alessio wanted to kiss away her concern. "They wanted to ensure you didn't...disappear before they could ask you any questions."

"They can ask me whatever they want," he said. "I'm done with it all."

Vasi's eyes widened. "You mean it?"