Find me in your labyrinth (Stella and Jonathan) novel Chapter 1970

Startled, Estelle immediately looked around, then a slow grin spread across her face. He was pulling her leg—how could Jonathan possibly see anything from that distance?

But talk about timing!

Clutching her glass of water, she headed upstairs. "I'm hitting the hay!" she called out.

"Sleep tight, I’ll wake you up in the morning," Lambert said, hands tucked into his jeans pockets, his voice gentle.

Estelle paused mid-step and murmured, "If it's past nine and I'm still out, then come wake me."

She hoped to wake up on her own.

She used to wake up on her own back in that lab, so why couldn't she now?

Lambert nodded, "Alright, goodnight!"

It was Christmas Eve, and his silent wish was for her to have sweet dreams tonight, free from the grip of nightmares.

Estelle ascended the stairs, and Lambert leaned casually against the corner of the table, watching her retreat. His deep eyes softened unexpectedly.

After wrapping up the Zion business, he had to head over to Grand Falls for a deal. How could he get her to come along?

The thought of her being by his side more often amused him—he was truly looking forward to it.

Estelle turned in early today, having gone from resisting sleep to embracing it.

Even though she would repeatedly fall into that cycle of dreams, she began to accept it.

At least in her dreams, she could still see the Wolf, fight alongside them, die with them!

Sometimes, she would be woken up by Lambert in her dreams, and in that groggy moment, she couldn't help but wonder if the Wolf was waiting for her in another dimension, eager for her to join them on a mission—perhaps growing impatient.

So, if she never woke up, if they never died in her dreams, could their story continue?

Every time she thought about it, Estelle would immediately stop herself from going any further.

She couldn't go to the Wolf. She had Jonathan, she had him!

Lambert's eyes widened. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Without a word, the stranger punched him squarely on the head. Lambert had trained in boxing and martial arts, but the assailant was too quick, the blow too heavy, and Lambert blacked out without a chance to fight back.

The formidable "Santa" hoisted Lambert up, flung him out the door, and slammed it shut with a thud.

Jonathan removed his Santa hat, fuming. Someone had the audacity to sneak into his Ella's room!

He approached Estelle's bedside, placed the gift, and turned to leave.

But then he paused, sensing something amiss. Despite the commotion, Estelle hadn't stirred.

Jonathan returned to the bedside and sat down. By the faint moonlight, he saw Estelle's furrowed brow and the cold sweat on her forehead—she was in distress.

His expression darkened, and he reached out to touch her face. "Ella, Ella!"

"Wake up!" he urged.