Alpha's Regret After the Divorce by Christina novel Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kira’s POV

“All set, Dr. Bennett. Everything’s prepared for the procedure,” the nurse announced, handing Lucas a clipboard that held my consent forms. Her gloved hands trembled slightly, betraying the sterile calm of the hospital room.

“Thank you,” I murmured softly to Lucas as he completed the paperwork. My voice felt fragile, almost as if it belonged to someone else.

Lucas glanced up, his features relaxing into a gentler expression. “Don’t thank me just yet. The toughest part is still coming,” he said quietly, his tone serious but reassuring.

The nurse stepped closer, holding a small, cold metallic device carefully between her fingers. “This is where the medical port will be inserted,” she explained, pointing just beneath my collarbone. “It’s designed to make administering the treatment herbs easier over the next several weeks.”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard, my gaze locked on the needle poised to pierce my skin. The weight of reality crashed down on me like a relentless tide—I was dying. This treatment was my fragile lifeline, the only hope to buy enough time to unravel the mysteries surrounding my father and Lyra.

“Will it hurt?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, instantly feeling foolish for even asking.

“Yes,” Lucas replied honestly, his eyes never leaving mine. “But I’ll be right here with you.”

Looking into his eyes, I saw something rare and precious—genuine concern. There was no trace of pity or duty, only sincere care. It reminded me of the way my father used to look at me before his world slipped away into a coma.

“Okay,” I nodded, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster. “Let’s do this.”

Pain. Pure, unfiltered agony.

That was the first sensation that greeted me when I awoke the following morning. My eyelids fluttered open to a vague swirl of colors and shapes that gradually formed into the familiar hospital room. Every fiber of my being felt as though it was being torn apart and reassembled incorrectly.

“Feels like you got hit by a truck, then set on fire from the inside, right?” Lucas’s voice broke through the haze.

I attempted to turn my head, but even the slightest movement sent sharp, stabbing pain down my spine. “Worse,” I rasped, my throat dry and raw.

I nodded weakly, surrendering to his care. In one smooth movement, he lifted me into his arms. I felt small and fragile against his chest, my head resting lightly on his shoulder. Even through the haze of dulled senses, I could still hear his heartbeat—steady, strong, and reassuring. For the first time since the treatment began, I felt a flicker of safety.

“Thank you,” I whispered as he carried me through the building, past curious eyes and hushed whispers.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied softly, his voice warm. “Friends are for this.”

Lucas’s car was a cocoon of warmth and comfort, the leather seats molding gently to cushion my aching body. We drove in silence for a while, the landscape outside blurring past the window in muted colors.

“My apartment,” I said suddenly, realizing I hadn’t given him directions. “It’s on Ocean View Road, near the edge of the forest.”

“Got it,” Lucas answered.

When we arrived at my apartment building, Lucas circled around to open the door for me. The short walk from the car to the elevator was agonizing; every step sent fresh waves of pain through my legs. Inside my apartment, Lucas helped me settle onto the couch before looking around the room with a thoughtful expression.